


Frequent Flyer

by WomanInWhite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Air travel, Beta Wanted, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Dirty Talk, F/M, Flying, M/M, Phone Sex, Smut, Switches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WomanInWhite/pseuds/WomanInWhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean loves his brother and he'd do anything for him. Well, it's how he had felt before he had to book a flight to make it to his graduation on time. He's on the verge of a panic attack when a friendly stranger offers some distraction. (Inspiration struck when I was flying across the country. Most of this was written in the air for added authenticity.)</p>
<p>Excerpt:<br/>Dean tipped his empty glass, “Thanks for that. I’m not usually this much of a wuss.” He glanced up and down the aisle before saying, “Hey, so I’ve always wondered, you know, since you’re so well-travelled… is the mile-high club a real thing, or is that just in the movies?”<br/>Castiel tilted his head, “I’m not familiar with the term.”<br/>Dean shrugged, “You know, getting busy on the plane. You ever…?”<br/>“Oh!” Castiel chuckled as he shook his head, “No, no. I certainly haven’t. I typically travel alone anyway.”<br/>“Well, isn’t that the point? Going for people you’re never gonna see again, getting a little kick out of the worst part of vacation?”<br/>“I can see why that might appeal to some.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Flight 683 to San Francisco is now boarding sections one through three.”

Dean picked up his duffel bag from the seat beside him and got in the boarding line. His boarding pass was wrinkled and gnarled from being twisted in his hands and crushed in his pocket. It wouldn’t scan, so the flight attendant had to pull him aside while she input his confirmation code directly on the computer at the desk, making it harder for Dean to just bite the bullet and get on the plane before his nerves got the better of him and forced him to run out of the terminal.

He walked down the narrow mobile corridor and halted when he reached the door of the plane, causing a small old lady to bump into him from behind. “Sorry,” Dean murmured as he let her and the next few passengers pass him by. His knuckles were white around the strap of his bag and he felt a sore developing on the inside of his lip where he’d been chewing on it all day. Sam had told him to buy a pack of gum to chew on to prevent his ears from popping at takeoff, but, Dean thought, he should probably have started earlier.

After a brief mental pep talk and a deep breath, Dean stepped into the plane. He could hardly hear the flight attendant’s cheerful greeting over his heart pounding in his ears, but after she repeated herself once or twice, Dean realized she wanted to see his ticket, so he gave it to her and noticed her lips moving as she pointed to the back of the plane.

He made his way down the long aisle of seats. The plane wasn’t full. Some of the rows were even empty. Regardless, Dean kept looking for the seat number printed on his ticket. A few passengers had started to settle in, whipping out curled neck pillows and chunky headphones, completely relaxed.

Dean was nearing the back of the plane, completely empty except for one man near his age, maybe slightly older, sitting in seat 59A, the second to last row next to the window. He could see his suit jacket and overcoat rolled up in a messy fold on the seat beside him, and the sleeves of his button-up were pushed up to his elbows. The man glanced up from his newspaper as he saw Dean approach. And Dean, finding the man rather attractive despite the nervous haze that seemed to cloud everything else, winked at him, almost reflexively.

The man held eye contact for a moment longer, not revealing any discernible reaction, before unceremoniously returning his attention to his newspaper, only his fingertips and a tuft of messy black hair peeking around the edges. Dean gave a slight roll of his eyes, mostly intended for himself, as he resumed his solitary nightmare, stowing his bag in an overhead compartment and taking his seat in 58D. It was a window seat, but seeing the plane’s wing, made of metal that seemed too flimsy for hurtling passengers hundreds of miles per hour through the air, made his heart skip. He slid down the window shade with an audible sound of discomfort and he scooted over to the empty aisle seat.

As he fished around his pocket, Dean glanced around to find that the next few rows ahead of him were empty. It was his impression that people from Kansas typically didn’t have a desire to visit the west coast. He could say the same of himself, but this was a special occasion.

He finally dug out the paper package from his jeans and slid out the plastic and foil packet of gum, popping out two or three pieces with a crunch. He chewed the minty gum with fervor as the plane began to slowly move away from the terminal.

Dean buckled himself into the seat, making sure it was snug, and he hung onto every word of the in-flight safety film that was playing on screens that unfolded from the ceiling of the plane. When that was over, he pulled out the laminated emergency plan from the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him, twisting around in his cheap vinyl seat to make sure that the closest emergency exit on the plan was actually there behind him. The sound of it caused the man behind him to flop over his paper again to give Dean a slightly puzzled look. Dean offered a helpless shrug of his shoulders before turning and stuffing the plan back where he found it.

He heard another squeak of vinyl behind him and was about to turn around when suddenly the plane lurched and began to pick up speed, the engines whirring louder and louder, and his hands flew to his armrests, gripping like a vice, every inch of him tense as he squeezed his eyes shut. When the tires left the tarmac, Dean couldn’t help the tiny, low-pitched whine that escaped his throat between clenched teeth and tightly pursed lips. His ears began to pop and Dean’s gum was useless, trapped between his molars, his jaw locked. He was starting to wish that he’d brought something a little stronger than gum to help him. Something like whiskey. Or a horse tranquilizer.

He felt a squeeze on his shoulder and he turned his neck as if it was a hinge that hadn’t been oiled in a century. The dark-haired man had also taken the aisle seat in his own row and had pressed his fingers into Dean, the pressure almost as reassuring as the barely-there smile on his face. He asked, “Are you alright?”

Dean croaked, “Not really.”

The other man let out a soft huff of a chuckle, his eyes wrinkling around the edges as Dean cleared his throat. “First flight, I take it?”

Dean nodded, his mouth too dry for him to feel like he could speak without sounding like a dying animal again.

The man gave him a soft clap on his shoulder before pulling back, leaning on his knees, “It can be a bit shaky at takeoff. Give it a couple of minutes, when the plane’s level. It should be a bit easier to handle.”

“I’m handling it just fine,” Dean snapped harshly. He immediately regretted it and said, “Sorry. I’m a little embarrassed. I just… really don’t like planes.”

“Ah,” the man said, as if it answered everything. “I see. Then why, may I ask, are you flying today?” He gently teased, “Is the bus too daunting?”

Dean was too wound up to come up with a retort better than a weak glare, but he answered nonetheless, “Couldn’t get off work early enough. Had to fly else I won’t make it on time to my brother’s graduation.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy that you’re there for it.” He quickly added, “And grateful that you’re going through this for him.”

“He better be,” Dean muttered. A soft ring sounded throughout the plane and Dean asked, “The hell was that?”

The man opened his mouth to answer when a crackling, barely intelligible voice came from the speakers, “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ve reached a cruising altitude of 15,000 feet and are making good time. Expected arrival is at 9:35 AM, local time. Feel free to get up and walk about the cabin at this time, though we do ask that you keep your seatbelt on while seated to ensure your safety in case of emergency.”

The man gave Dean a warm smile and got up to sit in the other aisle seat beside him, “You made it through takeoff. The rest is generally easy.”

Dean let out a shaky breath and felt the blood rush back into his hands as he loosened his grip, “Yeah, except now we’re miles in the air and could drop at any time.” A sudden tremble in the plane made him gasp and hold on again.

The man said calmly, “Just a little turbulence. It’s completely normal. Nothing to worry about.”

“Feels like something to worry about,” Dean complained, yet he seemed to relax the slightest bit. Even still, he admitted, “I’m afraid I might hurl.”

“This would be one of the better places to be if you don’t feel well. The restroom is just behind us.” When Dean didn’t respond, his gaze a little too panicked and his pallor a little too green, the man asked, “Where’s your brother graduating from?”

“Stanford,” Dean bit out automatically.

“That’s a great university. You must be very proud of him.”

Dean let out a pleased huff that contradicted his tense shoulders, “Yeah. Practically raised the kid. He’s a genius. Top of his class. Got a full ride, and he just got another one for the law school there.”

“Impressive.”

After a pause, Dean said, “Uh, thanks. For giving me something to do besides imagine how many ways this plane can go down.” Really, Dean couldn’t remember the last time someone took the time out sit down and make sure he was okay. Well, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d let someone, seeing as his brother was always way too eager to have cheesy bonding moments that were too embarrassing to bear.

“It’s my pleasure.”

“I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Hello, Dean. My name is Castiel.”

Dean’s brow furrowed at the strange name when a flight attendant emerged from the back of the plane with a beverage cart and smiled, “Could I get either of you something to drink?”

Castiel said, “I’ll just have a water, please.” The attendant was scooping ice into a cup when Castiel regarded Dean and said while reaching into his pocket for his wallet, “On second thought, could you make that two whiskeys?”

Dean protested, “Hey, you don’t have to-“

Castiel handed the attendant his payment and said, “Let me treat you to a drink. I think we ought to commend your bravery.”

Dean almost snorted at that, and he took the plastic cup that Castiel gave him as the attendant proceeded down the aisle to serve the other passengers.

Castiel raised his glass, “To clear skies and safe travels.”

Dean tapped their cups together and they drank, Dean draining his cup right off the bat. As he let the familiar burn warm him, Dean asked, “How about you? What’s in San Fran for you?”

Castiel watched the ice swirl around his glass as he sighed, “A conference. For work.”

“So, what, are you a businessman or something?”

“No, more like a representative for my company. I’m always traveling so my bosses don’t have to.”

“That sucks. So this is what you do? Fly around all the time?”

“Essentially. I fly so often, I might as well have a pair of wings.”

Dean groaned, “I couldn’t imagine doing that.”

“Well, you wouldn’t. You could barely breathe a few minutes ago.”

“Ah, shut up.” But Dean chuckled, “Yeah, I’d be a shit… whatever you are.”

Castiel asked, “Is that whiskey getting to you already?”

“I wish. I still kinda feel like I might jump outta my skin. Every time this plane trembles I think I’m gonna die.”

Castiel offered his cup which he had barely drank from, “Take mine. I’m not much of a drinker, and you seem to need it a lot more.”

Normally Dean would refuse. But he was too tense to reject an offer like that and he downed that cup too, “Thanks. Man, you’re making me look like a real asshole.”

Castiel gave him a tight-lipped smile, containing a laugh, “It’s alright. I understand the circumstances. I won’t judge you.”

Dean tipped his empty glass, “Thanks for that. I’m not usually this much of a wuss.” He glanced up and down the aisle before saying, “Hey, so I’ve always wondered, you know, since you’re so well-travelled… is the mile-high club a real thing, or is that just in the movies?”

Castiel tilted his head, “I’m not familiar with the term.”

Dean shrugged, “You know, getting busy on the plane. You ever…?”

“Oh!” Castiel chuckled as he shook his head, “No, no. I certainly haven’t. I typically travel alone anyway.”

“Well, isn’t that the point? Going for people you’re never gonna see again, getting a little kick out of the worst part of vacation?”

“I can see why that might appeal to some.”

Dean hummed in agreement before the plane began to shake again. With every quake of the plane, Dean’s mind flew someplace else, the whiskey not doing much to numb the fear exploding behind his eyes like somebody held a gun to his head and pulled the trigger, only realizing afterwards that it wasn’t loaded. After one particularly fierce tremor, Dean wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and said shakily, “I don’t know how I’m gonna get back home. I can’t do this again. What if I get stuck next to some screaming kids next time? I-I can’t!”

Castiel said, “You’re doing much better.” When Dean put his head in his hands, Castiel asked hesitantly, “So, Dean… what was that wink for earlier?”

Dean managed to pull himself back up and a small tinge of color returned to his cheeks, “Oh, uh… you know. You’re, uh… not bad.”

“Oh, that’s all?”

Dean shook his head, still too distressed to even smile, “You know what I mean.”

The corner of Castiel’s lip turned up, “Yes, I know.” Dean buried his face in his hands again, from fear or embarrassment, it wasn’t certain. Castiel said, “You’re not bad yourself.”

Dean looked back up with a small smile, “Thanks… I guess.”

“You’re welcome.” Castiel idly checked his wristwatch before unbuckling his seatbelt and getting up, “I’m going to take a moment. You should find something to distract yourself from the flight. I’ll be in the restroom… if you need me.”

And Dean would have missed it, it would have flown right over his head if Castiel hadn’t done him the courtesy of making his intentions clear with the tiniest quirk of his eyebrow before turning and walking away. Dean shut his mouth after it seemed to have hung open without his knowledge. Once he watched Castiel slip away, Dean scrambled up. He nearly lost his balance in the aisle, and was jolted back into the reality that he was thousands of feet in the air. He braced himself on the seats for a moment to get his bearings before opening up the overhead compartment to reach into his duffel bag for the lube and condoms he packed with him wherever he went for just such an occasion. Once he’d tucked them in his pocket and shut the compartment, he glanced up and down the aisle. The flight attendants seemed to have settled in the front of the plane, and all of the other passengers seemed distracted by other things. Sleeping, working on crossword puzzles, chatting amongst themselves; none of them paid Dean any attention all the way in the back of the plane.

Dean hobbled down the aisle until he reached the restroom door that still said ‘vacant’. He smirked, disbelieving, before he pushed open the door.

Castiel was standing there, looking away from the mirror with his shirt already untucked and unbuttoned. They regarded each other with near-identical looks of almost-surprise before Castiel reached and grabbed Dean’s wrist, pulling him into the cramped space, flush against him, and pushing the door shut, making sure to slide the lock so that it said, ‘occupied’.

They stared at each other for a moment, neither really knowing where to start. Dean finally muttered, “I’m glad there aren’t any windows in here.”

At that, Castiel’s lips curled up as he pressed them against Dean’s. Dean held onto Castiel’s biceps as he kissed back, parting his lips and letting the slightest hint of his tongue sneak out. The plane rumbled, and Dean was about to pull away, but Castiel grabbed his hips and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, his tongue participating rather eagerly.

And that was all it took to overpower Dean’s fear, if only for a moment. He kissed back hungrily, every nip of the lip and tilt of the head a weapon against his paranoid fear of falling out of the sky.

Castiel, hips pressed into Dean and pinning him against the wall, pushed off Dean’s plaid flannel shirt with ease and was making quick work of pulling off the t-shirt underneath, breaking their kiss only to yank it over Dean’s head. His hands immediately landed on Dean’s chest, roaming around the soft skin that was trembling from all of the adrenaline that had been building up in him all day, not missing the black ink near his collarbone but too distracted by Dean’s actions to think about it.

Dean broke the kiss and planted his lips under Castiel’s jaw and he pushed his shirt the rest of the way off. Castiel muttered, “Not too high up. I have work in four hours.”

Dean obeyed and opted to suck a dark circle at the very bottom of his neck, just low enough to hide under a shirt collar, if Castiel was careful enough. Castiel let out a strained hum as his hips started to move against Dean’s, his erection becoming noticeable to the both of them. He clutched at Dean’s belt, swiftly unbuckling it and unzipping his pants before pressing a hand firmly against his crotch, rubbing at Dean’s cock through his underwear.

Dean groaned into Castiel’s neck, his hips reflexively pushing into Castiel’s hand, yearning for his fingers to wrap around him. But Castiel didn’t linger there. As Dean ran his hands all over Castiel’s back, Castiel fumbled to open up his own pants, pulling himself out before reaching back into Dean’s jeans, clutching at his bare ass and pulling him against him roughly.

Dean’s hands ventured lower, pushing down Castiel’s pants until they slipped to hang loosely around his knees. Another shake of the plane cause him to grip at Castiel’s arms again, and bury his face into his shoulder. Castiel gently kissed the shell of Dean’s ear and smoothed back his hair as he murmured, “It’s alright. It’s okay.”

He slipped a hand under Dean’s clothes, pushing them down until Dean managed to kick one of his pant legs off over his boot and wrapped a hand around him, tugging at his cock, which seemed to wilt a little bit every time he was struck with fear. Dean let out a small moan, briefly forgetting his nerves. He breathed, “My pocket.”

Castiel struggled to crouch low enough to reach the jeans on the floor, but he managed to swipe them up to find the condom and lube Dean had brought along. The plane shook again and Dean cursed under his breath before admitting with difficulty, “I don’t even know if I can keep it up like this.”

Castiel twisted open the small TSA-approved bottle of lube and poured a liberal amount on his fingers, “Let me worry about keeping it up then.”

His hand reached around Dean who gasped as he felt the slick fingers slide between his legs, grazing over his hole. After a little teasing, Castiel pushed a finger inside slowly, earning a low groan from Dean. He was pushing a second one in when the plane gave a slight lurch, and Dean tensed up, arms latched around Castiel’s back, hole clenching around his fingers. Castiel took the opportunity to continue to carefully press further and Dean let out a small, helpless moan, clearly torn between fear and pleasure.

Once Castiel was satisfied that Dean was ready, he removed his fingers and Dean let out a needy sigh, moving his hips against Castiel’s as he took the condom from where he left it on the narrow counter and rolled it on. He looked up at Dean who asked plainly, “How are we going to do this?”

The space was tiny. It was clear that they were limited. But at the same time, Dean could think of a number of creative ways to utilize the cramped cabinet of a room. Before he could make a suggestion, Castiel was turning them both around, pushing Dean to sit half-assed on the counter. Before he could slip off, Castiel was pressed up against him, bracing him there as he hooked an arm under one of Dean’s legs, pushing it up so Dean’s knee stretched almost up to his head, his other leg automatically bracing himself against the wall behind Castiel, his jeans dangling from his ankle, the buckle from his belt occasionally clanking on the floor.

Even in such close quarters, Dean was spread out enough that Castiel could see what he was doing as he lined himself up and pressed against Dean’s hole. The plane trembled and Castiel, hands occupied, pressed their foreheads together as he urged, “Look at me. Ignore everything else.”

Dean felt his breath hitch in fear, but then Castiel was sliding into him, looking at Dean, watching so intensely for a reaction that it sucked Dean in and he sucked in a breath and arched his back as he felt Castiel’s length press in, deeper and deeper until finally, he couldn’t go any further.

Once he was used to the cock that was filling him, Dean, who was locked between Castiel and the mirror behind him, murmured, “Move.”

And Castiel did, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. Dean groaned and before he could catch his breath, Castiel did it again, and again, not giving Dean a chance to recover his bearings. Dean could only pull him arms tighter around Castiel’s neck and back, pressing them closer together as he hung on. Since he couldn’t shift his hips without falling, Castiel was doing all of the work, pounding into Dean a little faster now, and Dean could only think of the in and out that was taking his breath away.

That is, until the plane shook from side to side with a little more force than he had felt so far, and it took everything in Dean not to cry out in terror. In his fear he had yanked at Castiel so hard causing him to lose his balance. He slid almost all the way out of Dean before catching himself on the door. He almost laughed before remembering Dean’s fear and seeing how scared he was.

He wrapped his free arm around Dean in a gesture of comfort before slamming back into Dean, the turbulence having shifted them enough for him to reach Dean’s prostate. And Dean, already raw with fear, cried out at the sudden, unexpected burst of pleasure. Castiel didn’t give him a chance to dwell on the plane. He kept hitting him right where he wanted it, and Dean gasped, “Harder.”

“Ah, Dean,” Castiel muttered before doing just what Dean asked for, fucking into Dean so hard he was almost lifted off of the counter. And it was perfect because Dean could no longer distinguish between the shaking caused by the plane or by their activities.

Dean ran a hand through Castiel’s hair and clutched at it, moaning into his neck, “Fuck, Cas. There, right there, righ- uhh! You fuck so fucking good, Cas. I- fuck!” He continued to blather on unintelligibly, only release a stuttered groan when Castiel grabbed his cock, finally standing at full attention, and jerked in with the same rhythm and intensity of his thrusting. It wasn’t long before Dean moaned into Castiel’s skin and came, Castiel still thrusting into him, losing his rhythm as he followed close behind with a groan.

They didn’t move for a few moments, simply stopping to catch their breath, taking in the stale, pressurized air coming through the vents. They rested their heads on each other’s shoulders, the smell of their sweat strong in the tiny space, the mirror fogged up. Finally, Castiel raised a hand to rest on the back of Dean’s neck as he pulled back to give him a small kiss. He asked, “So, how’s your first flight going? Does it compare to what you’ve seen in the movies?”

Dean rolled his eyes with a smile, “It’s fucking up my mind. It’s weird feeling on the verge of death and orgasm at the same time.”

Castiel laughed, “That sounds exhausting.”

“Yeah, I could sleep for a week.” Castiel pulled out and let Dean’s leg drop and Dean clung to him so he wouldn’t have to get up, worried his legs weren’t ready to hold him up yet. He said, “It was still really good though.”

“Yes. It was.” Castiel glanced around his feet before looking up at Dean, “So… How are we going to do this?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean pushed himself into the back of his seat, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut. Castiel had jokingly offered his hand and Dean only got offended and focused on not hyperventilating as the nose of the plane started to tip down. When the plane touched down with a starling bounce, Dean’s hand wound up clamped around Castiel’s wrist until they slowed down.

As they exited the terminal, Dean could see Sam waiting for him on the other side of the security checkpoint, poking out like a palm tree above the crowd of people that had gathered there. He felt something swell in his chest at seeing his brother for the first time since Christmas. But Sam didn’t see Dean. He was talking to a pretty blonde woman who smiled up at him affectionately. It was Jess, the girl he’d been seeing for 2 years. Dean had met her during the holidays and even though he was a little sickened by how cheesy she and Sam were with each other, it warmed him since it only seemed to prove they were meant to be.

He glanced over at Castiel who regarded Dean before putting down his suitcase and pulling his boarding pass and a pen from his pocket. He began scribbling something on the boarding pass as he said, “In case you don’t want to sleep on some dormitory futon all weekend…” He handed the note to Dean, “That’s the hotel I’m staying at. Look me up. I’ll be in town a few days. Feel free to stay the night.”

Dean stared at the boarding pass with a stupid grin, “Hey, I just might. I’m not typically such a wimp in bed, and I’d hate for you to leave thinking that way. I’ve got a reputation to protect, you know.”

Castiel chuckled, “I’d be more than happy to help you defend your honor. Until next time.”

Dean watched as Castiel walked past the checkpoint and out on the curb, raising his arm to hail a cab. He was distracted by a familiar yell of, “Dean!” Sam and Jess waved over to him and he waved back. He glanced back over to the curb, but Castiel had already gone. He looked at the scrawl on the boarding pass one more time before stuffing it in his pocket with a smile as he walked over to his brother with a spring in his step.

“Hey, Sammy!”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a fun weekend with Sam and Jess, Dean decides to give the couple some privacy. And there's only one other person he knows in this city.
> 
>  
> 
> Excerpt:  
> "...If I’m being honest…” He gave Castiel a mischievous smirk, “it wasn’t a completely selfless act on my part.”
> 
> “I see.” Castiel smiled, “I think I remember you saying you had a reputation to protect. Not that I thought our last meeting was lacking in anyway.”
> 
> Dean put his empty can on the floor before getting up and putting his hands on either armrest of Castiel’s chair, leaning in and surrounding him. His head dipped and he whispered in Castiel’s ear, “Oh, you poor fool.” He nipped at his earlobe, “You just didn’t know what you were missing.”
> 
> Castiel let his empty can drop to the floor and his hands grazed over Dean’s arms as he muttered, “I didn’t? Why don’t you show me?”
> 
> Dean sucked gently at Castiel’s neck and said, “That’s the plan, amigo.”

“How was your flight? Not too bad, I hope.”

After some welcoming hugs, Sam had grabbed Dean’s duffel bag from him, ignoring Dean’s insistence that he could carry his own damn stuff, as they made their way to the parking structure where Jess’ car was.

Dean kept his face as straight as he could, “Oh, y’know. Coulda been worse.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, “Could’ve been worse? Dean, you’re petrified of flying.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for reminding me,” he spat out, voice dripping with sarcasm. He shrugged, “I dunno, I just… found a way to distract myself.”

They arrived at the car and Sam popped the trunk, tossing Dean’s bag in before shutting the trunk and staring at his brother, “Oh.” He rolled his eyes, “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“Did it happen at the airport? Or did you actually manage to score on the plane?”

Dean’s composure broke as a grin split across his face, “Am I that easy to read?”

Jess’ lips were tightly pressed together, clearly holding back a fit of laughter at the fountain of incredulity she knew was about to fall from Sam’s mouth. Dean caught her look and felt warmed by the idea that she’d learned all of Sam’s behaviors so well she knew exactly what was coming to Dean.

Sam exclaimed, “I don’t even know how you do it! Only you could dodge a legitimate phobia if it meant getting some ass.”

Dean slid into the backseat of the car and leaned over the front seats as Jess and Sam got in the front. He muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “Well, I wasn’t getting ass, more like givi-“

“Dean!”

At this, Jess couldn’t contain a rather unladylike snort before bursting into laughter, holding her sides and wiping tears from her eyes, squeaking out, “Oh my god…”

Dean was glad that finally someone appreciated the way he tormented his brother, and he hoped she was going to stick around so he could keep it up. As Jess started up the car, Dean wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulder, jostling him in his seat, “C’mon baby bro, lighten up. You know, when two people love each other, or just, y’know, find each other really freakin’ hot, there’s lots of different ways to show it.”

Sam had hidden his face in his hands when Jess turned around to look out the rear window as she pulled the car out of the space. Without looking at Dean, she said, completely impassively, “Oh please, Dean. We’re not as vanilla in bed as you think.”

Both brothers snapped their heads in her direction with identical expressions of shock, Dean’s melting into a victorious grin upon realizing what a treasure Jess was, Sam’s only getting redder and redder at what she’d revealed.

Sam sputtered, “O-okay, Jess, I can deal with you, and I can deal with Dean. But both of you at the same time is really making me start to question my upbringing and my life choices.”

Dean gave Sam a light flick on the ear, “Hey, Sam, I like her. Keep her. Don’t screw this up for me.”

Dean and Jess continued to laugh and torture Sam in ways only they knew how while Sam sunk in his seat wondering if he would survive long enough to accept his diploma the next afternoon.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They got back to the apartment complex and Dean grabbed his duffel out of the trunk before Sam could. Jess said from the driver’s seat, “I’m gonna run to the store to pick up a few things for dinner. You two catch up.”

Sam leaned into her window to give her a kiss before she drove off. Dean watched the way Sam’s eyes followed the car, his expression all soft and tender. Dean let out a low whistle, “Damn, Sammy, you got it bad.”

Sam blushed, “Shut up.” He led the way into the apartment and gave Dean a short tour of the place, showing him to the couch where blankets were folded up waiting for him. Dean sat there while Sam went into the kitchen to retrieve a couple of beers for them, handing Dean an open bottle before settling on the armchair beside him.

Dean talked about the garage and how things were going at home. Sam talked about his finals and his interview that won him another scholarship into Stanford’s law school.

They were halfway through their beers when Sam’s fingers twitched around the neck of his bottle and he said shakily, “Uh, Dean, I… I gotta tell you something.”

Dean’s nerves jumped in all different directions, his mind racing with whatever might have Sam so clearly worked up, “What is it?”

Sam bowed his head and swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and said, “I just thought… maybe it was a good idea to mention it, maybe ask you what-“

“Spit it out, Sammy. You’re starting to freak me out.”

Sam looked up at Dean, that scared puppy-dog look making him look like he was still in high school, his shaggy mop of hair only emphasizing the look. He said quietly, “Tomorrow I’m gonna… I’m gonna propose to Jess.”

Dean’s heart flipped in his chest, filling with relief and joy, “Jeez, Sam, thought you were about to tell me you needed help hiding a body or something.”

“Sorry,” said Sam. He scratched at the label on the bottle, “So, what do you think?”

A smile split across Dean’s face, “My baby brother wants to get married. How do you think I feel?”

Sam returned Dean’s grin and chuckled, all nerves, “Good, I hope.” His leg was bouncing up and down on the ball of his foot, “I’m kinda freaking out though.”

Dean chuckled, “Hey, Jess is a smart girl. No way she’s letting a guy with Winchester genes out of her sight. Plus, she got the smart one.”

“You’re smart too, Dean.”

“Eh, I’m no Stanford valedictorian.” They sat in silence for a moment before Dean softened and said, “She’ll say yes, man.”

“I know,” Sam breathed, his eyes lighting up like he was only just realizing it, the gravity of it leaving him stunned, “I know she will. But I’m still… I dunno.”

Dean said, “You’re such a freaking girl sometimes.”

Sam couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he said again, “Shut up.”

Dean got up from his seat and pulled Sam up into a hug, “Proud of you, Sammy.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

When they parted, Sam said, “I thought you didn’t do chick-flick moments.”

“I’m making an exception for times like these,” said Dean. “God knows how much you need them.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, after the ceremony, Sam proposed to Jess at the edge of the field where they’d received their diplomas. The handful of people nearby who witnessed it applauded when Jess stuck her hand out, saying ‘yes’ over and over as Sam put the ring on her finger before lifting her off her feet into his arms and kissing her, their graduation caps falling into the grass. A few of their friends were making their way over to congratulate them, but Dean was there first (having filmed the whole thing at Sam’s request), pulling Jess into a hug and kissing her cheek, saying warmly, “Welcome to the family.”

Jess then bounced excitedly over to her parents who’d been waiting nearby.  When the brothers were left alone, Dean brought Sam in for a hug as well, smiling from ear to ear, feeling overwhelmingly proud and just plain happy. But when Sam pulled away, his own smile overshadowed by a pained look in his eye, Dean frowned, “What is it?”

“It’s nothing. It’s just…” Sam glanced over at Jess, whose mother had finally released her from a bone-crushing hug before her father went to give her a kiss on her forehead, and his voice cracked, “I wish Dad could’ve been here. Mom too.”

Dean’s chest tightened at the aching reminder of their parents’ absence, especially their father’s as his was still something they were struggling to get used to. “Yeah, me too, Sammy.” He put an arm over his shoulder, rubbing up and down his arm in a gesture of comfort, trying to keep himself composed for Sam’s sake as his brother clenched his jaw and turned his head away, “They’d be real proud of you. I know I am. You grew up great. It’s all they ever wanted.”

“Thanks,” Sam said wetly.

And Dean couldn’t help but pull him into another embrace, this one tighter, as they both fought to bear the loss that they shared.

Dean pulled back, wiping away a tear from Sam’s cheek with his thumb like he hadn’t done in years and said softly, “Hey, hey, that’s enough. You think they’d want you to get all mopey on such a big day? Huh? You wanna get me started too? It’d be pretty lame if we wound up sitting on the couch crying over some Ben and Jerry’s all night.”

Sam’s face cracked into a small smile and he ran a hand over his face, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Dean clapped him on the back, “Of course I am. Now go make nice with the future in-laws before we get you properly shit-faced.”

Not long afterwards, they celebrated. Dean thanked his lucky stars that as smart as Jess was (being only a couple of places behind Sam in class rank), she wasn’t as big of a shut-in nerd as Sam, and she led the way to the best bars and clubs in the college town.

Dean had gotten to know her a little bit when they’d visited him in Kansas for Christmas break, but they’d mostly stayed home and she and Sam actually brought their textbooks to start studying for their next semester of classes. Dean thought Sam was basically dating a clone of himself.

Seeing this side of Jess, the side that matched Dean evenly when it came to drinking, that dragged a stiff-legged Sam onto the dance floor and forced him to get the stick out of his ass and move to the music with her, that dealt with less than polite admirers (and Dean’s teasing flirtations) on her own without deeming it necessary to show off her giant of a boyfriend as a threat... Dean was falling for her. Well, in the sense that he was glad his brother had the brains to get a ring on her. If he had to welcome anybody new to the family, he couldn’t be happier with anybody but Jess.

He was even more surprised when towards the end of the night, while he was walking ahead to look for a cab, Jess had wound up half-carrying Sam (who Jess and Dean had made sure had his fill of liquor). She didn’t seem to mind the huge drunk dragging his feet and resting half his weight on her, slurring poorly-worded naughty things in her ear much louder than he thought he was. It was heartwarming, really, that she was looking out for him and seemed completely capable and willing to do so on her own.

Nevertheless, Dean scrambled back to help shoulder the weight until Sam eventually complained he was tired and whined for Dean to give him a piggyback ride like he hadn’t done in nearly fifteen years. And how could Dean deny his baby brother that? It was too funny, and Jess made sure to take plenty of photos to embarrass the both of them the next day.

After a greasy brunch late the following morning at Sam and Jess’ favorite burrito joint, they spend a long afternoon at the beach. Sam and Jess became golden under the sun while Dean’s shoulders burned. They shoved each other into the waves until the brilliant sunset beckoned them back to the shore to sit back and watch.

They got back to the apartment after more burritos (since Dean insisted he wouldn’t be able to find such a perfect burrito in Kansas). Dean showered off the salty sea water and when he dug in his bag for a change of clothes he caught sight of a crumpled boarding pass with writing scrawled on the back of it. Dean had been so caught up spending time with Sam and Jess and getting distracted by how quickly his brother was growing up, he’d almost forgotten about his little airline escapade and Castiel’s outstanding offer.

Dean dressed and peeked out from the living room where he’d settled. Sam and Jess were standing close together in the kitchen, talking in hushed tones with sweet smiles on their faces, their fingers lacing together and their lips touching from time to time. Dean sauntered in with a saucy grin and slapped a hand on the table, slicing through the romantic tension between the young couple like a knife, “Welp, I think it’s time I got out of your hair for a little while.”

Sam started, “No, Dean, it’s oka-“

“Sammy,” Dean said, warning in his voice, “I think I can tell when I’m interrupting private time. And I’ll be damned if I cock-block my brother and his brand-new fiancée when both of you should be celebrating your graduation and engagement… together.” Dean ended with a goofy grin and an eyebrow cocked as Sam tried to hold in an embarrassed laugh while also attempting to reprimand Dean with a stare. It didn’t work and Dean just laughed as he headed out the door, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be doing some celebrating of my own tonight. See ya in the morning, you two!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean meandered into the lobby of the 4-star hotel and went up to the receptionist. He gave her a wink and said, “Hey there, gorgeous.”

The girl, probably Sam’s age, gave him a shallow customer-service smile that didn’t go beyond the stretch of her lips as she asked, “Can I help you?”

Dean was starting to think all of these college girls were too smart to be lured by his usual, easy come-ons, seeing as he hadn’t had any luck with the ladies since he got to California. What was he hitting on her for anyway, he wondered, if he was only here on a booty call? He cleared his throat and checked the note again before asking, “You mind seeing if Castiel Novak is still checked in? If he is, would you let him know Dean’s here?”

As she checked the computer and dialed a number on the desk phone, Dean leaned against the counter, looking up at the high ceiling of the lobby. It was a nice enough place. Not exactly Dean’s choice of lodging when he went on road trips; he’d never seen the point in throwing down the extra cash for higher standards he wasn’t going to appreciate anyway. A bed, shower and a TV with basic cable were all he needed. Everything else would just be wasted on him. But if it was on the company dime, as he assumed was the case for Castiel, then he was sure he could have at least made use of a mini bar or a hot tub.

The sound of the phone clacking back into the receiver got Dean to turn around and the receptionist said, “Mr.Novak said you’re welcome to head up to his room. It’s number 1401. Elevators are down that hall and to the left.”

As Dean waited in the cramped elevator he shared with two business-types, a handful of graduates clearly celebrating, and a family of five complete with a damn inner tube, he couldn’t help but think about the man he was going to see. Or rather, what he’d done with him. By the time the elevator came to a halt on the fourteenth floor, Dean could feel his ears burning in embarrassment.

He didn’t exactly make a great first impression in… bathroom. He was almost in tears, he was so scared, even as he was in the middle of getting plowed into senselessness. He dragged his feet down the hallway as he started to recall his weaker moments, how he’d clung to Castiel and whined like a baby.

He was considering bailing when a door opened down the hall and out stepped Castiel, his tie loosened and the buttons on his cuffs undone, sleeves pushed up his arms. He’d spotted Dean and it was too late for him to turn tail without looking like even more of a loser. Castiel took a few steps closer as Dean approached him, “I was just coming to find you. I thought you’d lost your way.”

Great, thought Dean, had he really taken that long? Man up, Winchester!

He thought up some excuse, “Just some kids on the elevator. Pushed all the freakin’ buttons.” Well, it’s something he and Sam had done on their last family vacation before their mother died.

Castiel seemed to buy it and waved Dean over, “I’m set up just over here.”

He lead the way into the room and Dean shut the door behind them. Castiel opened the mini fridge and asked, “Would you like a beer?”

“Sure.”

Castiel handed him a can before sitting in an armchair beside the bed and taking a long drink from his beer. Dean awkwardly sat on the bed beside him and Castiel said quickly, “I’m sorry. I probably should have mentioned that I’ve had a long day and I only got back a little while ago. I just need a moment to unwind.”

“Oh,” said Dean. “Uh… I hope it wasn’t too bad.”

“No, it was a very successful meeting. Doesn’t make it any less stressful. Or boring.” He sighed and looked up at Dean with a small smile, “How did the graduation go?”

“It was… great. My brother gave a fancy speech and everything. Then he proposed to his girlfriend.” Dean could feel his chest swell with pride and the smile grow on his face.

Castiel’s brows rose up as he smiled, “How exciting. That’s great news.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Then we partied with his fiancée, who is way cooler than I first thought, considering she’s now engaged to such a nerd.”

Castiel chuckled at that, “Sounds like you’ve been having a good time.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, taking another swig of his beer. “Anyway, I didn’t wanna be a buzzkill. Wanted to give them some time alone since I was a little too present the night of their engagement, and so here I am.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“I guess. But if I’m being honest…” He gave Castiel a mischievous smirk, “it wasn’t a completely selfless act on my part.”

“I see.” Castiel smiled, “I think I remember you saying you had a reputation to protect. Not that I thought our last meeting was lacking in any way.”

Dean put his empty can on the floor before getting up and putting his hands on either armrest of Castiel’s chair, leaning in and surrounding him. His head dipped and he whispered in Castiel’s ear, “Oh, you poor fool.” He nipped at his earlobe, “You just didn’t know what you were missing.”

Castiel let his empty can drop to the floor and his hands grazed over Dean’s arms as he muttered, “I didn’t? Why don’t you show me?”

Dean sucked gently at Castiel’s neck and said, “That’s the plan, amigo.” His hands slid off of the armrests and into Castiel’s lap, spreading his legs while Dean got to his knees between them, “But first, how about I just help you unwind? After all, I’ve got you here all night. You’re gonna need to loosen up.”

Castiel merely stared as Dean made short work of opening up his pants and pulling out his cock, already half-hard in anticipation. Dean gave him two or three strokes with his hand before dipping down to take him in his mouth, his tongue swirling painfully slowly around the head before he sunk down to take more of him in.

Castiel sighed, practically melting into the chair, his stress almost tangibly evaporating from his body. His hand found its way into Dean’s hair, not to pull, but merely caress gently. He let out a quiet moan as Dean offered a bit of suction, his cock starting to really harden at the attention.

Dean pulled off with a soft, disappointed groan from Castiel before he tilted his head to lick his cock from the base, his lips attaching to the side and sucking gently, making sure every inch was attended to. Dean took his time, taking Castiel back into his mouth and bobbing in long, slow strokes, his hand working the base, grip tightening on the upstroke.

Castiel’s breath started to hitch and Dean decided to slow things down even more. His hand still working, he lifted his head away and said, “I know I was a little distracted on the plane. Sorry about that.”

Castiel let out a frustrated breath, trying to take from Dean’s hand the same pleasure he got from his mouth, but having a hard time accomplishing that, “It’s alright.”

Dean gave Castiel another wet lick before continuing, “You know, even then, when I saw your cock…” He took it in his mouth once more for a quick suck and came back up, “I was thinking how bad I wanted to taste it, to get you in my mouth and suck you off.”

Castiel groaned and his hand was back in Dean’s hair, and this time, he was pulling him closer. Dean chuckled, “Somebody’s impatient.” Still, he let Castiel guide him back to his cock and he went back to sucking him until Castiel was nearing the edge.

Dean pulled up again with eyes heavily lidded, having been entranced by his repetitive bobbing in the heat of the moment, and said, “Wanna taste you, Cas. You clean?”

“Yes,” Castiel managed to bite out. Dean took him in a little further than before, the head of Castiel’s cock hitting the back of his throat. He gagged and the sensation caused Castiel to buck up slightly from his seat, “D-dean… Gonna come, gonna, uh!”

Dean stopped sucking and pulled back. He tilted his head back, mouth open with the tip of Castiel’s cock resting on his tongue as his hand started to jerk him off in earnest. Castiel watched Dean’s little presentation with wide eyes as he finally came, stripes of white appearing on Dean’s tongue and the back of his throat. It was such a filthy sight that Castiel’s cock twitched and seemed to make another attempt to empty itself in Dean’s mouth, a few last drops of cum dripping out. When Dean was sure Castiel was done, his lips closed on his head again, sucking it clean before swallowing Castiel’s load.

Castiel released a grateful groan as Dean snaked his lips back up to his throat. Dean muttered against his skin, “Feeling better?”

“Definitely,” Castiel breathed before pulling Dean’s face up to kiss him, his tongue delving into his mouth. When they parted, he said, “Although, I don’t think I’ll be of much use to you now.”

Dean smirked and kissed Castiel, rubbing the heel of his palm into his crotch, “What do you take me for? Think I’d get you off so quick if I didn’t think I could get you back up? You’re not getting off the hook that easy.”  He moved his hand up his chest and joked, “Unless you’d rather stay up all night talking about mergers and stock options?”

“Not that I directly work with either of those, but please, no.” Castiel ran his fingers on the hem of Dean’s shirt before pulling it up a few inches to run his hands over his skin, “Let me return the favor.”

He pulled Dean’s shirt over his head as the other man straddled his lap and made himself comfortable. As one hand rested over the side of Dean's neck, the other slid down over his tattoo before his thumb rubbed over his nipple. Castiel pulled Dean down for another heated kiss as his hands ran over Dean's flesh, his fingers fitting in the grooves of Dean's ribs when he pressed into them. Dean chuckled and twisted under Castiel's touch, "Hey, tickling doesn't do it for me. More likely I'll accidentally elbow you in the face."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I'll be more careful." Castiel lowered his mouth to one of Dean’s nipples, giving it a light nip before sucking at it, drawing a soft groan from Dean who began to wind his hips around in Castiel’s lap.

Castiel reached a hand down between them, resting it firmly against Dean’s crotch, letting the blonde rut into his palm before snaking into his pants. He pulled Dean’s cock out and mimicked the strokes Dean had given him before.

After a few minutes of making out and dealing with a lazy hand job as best as he could, Dean dropped his head to Castiel’s shoulder, panting against his neck, his tongue laving across the soft skin there where the hickey he’d left the last time they met was still just barely visible until Dean returned it to its harsh purple color again. Castiel shifted his wrist around since the repetitive motion in the cramped space between them was putting a strain on him. Dean groaned as it caused a spike of pleasure to race around his pelvis.

Dean’s hand ran down Castiel’s back until it slid into his pants so he could grab at his ass. The other hand rested on the back of his neck, scratching at his hair and pulling him closer so he could breathe in his ear, “Cas, please, let me fuck you. Wanna fuck you so bad.”

Castiel’s hips twitched up in response, his cock starting to harden again at the thought. He stroked Dean more slowly, enjoying how beautiful the man was, especially when his face wasn’t marred with fear in the middle of sex because of a little turbulence. This time, Dean was in his element, Castiel could recognize that much. He was different, and Castiel liked it, needed to see more. He hadn’t had a random hookup in ages, but his meetings with Dean were proving to be the best he’d ever had. He had to get the most out of this before he never saw Dean again.

So, naturally, he teased, “You do? On the plane you seemed to enjoy having me fuck you into the sink.”

Dean huffed as he admitted with a blush, “Yeah, sure. That was great and all, but that’s not my usual fix. Trust me, you’ll wanna see me on top.”

It’s not that Castiel didn’t want to bottom (and he had to admit, he really did want to see Dean, all muscle and predatory sex appeal now that he was down here at sea level, plow into him). He only joked because Dean’s bravado was ridiculously cute, and he wanted to see what Dean would do to prove himself. So when he said, “Alright,” he wasn’t disappointed.

Dean shoved Castiel’s hand off of him and got up from his lap, pulling him by the wrist to stand with him. He was a little rougher as his hands wound up back in his pants, sliding down his ass and pulling his pants and underwear down with them until they fell to the floor. Castiel nearly stumbled stepping out of them when Dean pulled him closer, their hips meeting before Dean was forcing him to walk backwards until his legs bent at the edge of the bed and they fell onto it, their mouths barely parting for a second.

Castiel shoved at Dean’s pants until they slid down his thighs and Dean grumbled impatiently as he got up to kick them off the rest of the way, pouncing back on the bed as soon as he got stark naked. Castiel propped himself up on his elbows, starting to shrug off the dress shirt he’d just noticed had already been unbuttoned for him when Dean’s hand stopped him. Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion before Dean said, “Leave it on. I like it.”

Castiel didn’t need to be told twice. Dean leaned down to kiss him again, loosening his tie but opting to leave that on as well, the two ends dangling on either side of Castiel’s neck, framing his chest in blue that was a few shades darker than his eyes. Their hips had reconnected, their bare cocks rubbing together, both hard now. Castiel’s legs shifted open so Dean could slide between them more easily, hips canting up to meet Dean’s.

Finally, Dean said huskily, “Enough foreplay.” He hoisted himself off the bed and scanned the ground for his jeans before cursing, “Fuck. Forgot to pack ahead.”

Castiel’s hand had slithered down and he began stroking himself much to Dean’s surprise as he said, “My luggage. Outer pocket.”

Dean dug through the carry-on bag he recognized from the airport and found a plastic bag from a convenience store with a new bottle of lube and box of condoms inside. Dean plucked a row of condoms and the bottle and wiggled them in the air with a smirk as he sauntered back to the bed, “Looks like someone was hoping I’d drop by.”

“Oh, please,” Castiel groaned at Dean’s adorable cockiness. “Just hurry up already. Want your dick in me.”

Dean shuddered and slipped between Castiel’s thighs again, “God, if you keep talking like that, I won’t last long.” He squeezed some lube on his fingers and used his other hand to hold Castiel’s legs open, his wet fingers rubbing firmly around his hole. Dean’s eyes flickered back and forth between Castiel’s face and his ass, like he was flipping channels and couldn’t decide whether to watch Star Wars or Game of Thrones.

Castiel moaned as one of Dean’s fingers finally breached him. Dean muttered, “So tight. Can’t wait to fill you up and fuck you.”

Dean continued his efforts, marking up Castiel’s chest with red and purple hickeys and working him open until Castiel was writhing on three of his fingers, the heel of Dean’s hand pressing against his balls.

Castiel’s breath hitched before he said, “Just fuck me already.”

Dean gave a small pleased groan at Castiel’s words before pulling his fingers away and putting on a condom, bringing the tip of his lubed cock to press against his hole, Castiel’s hips struggling to get closer from under Dean’s hold. Dean slowly inched his way inside, leaning over Castiel’s trembling form as they both struggled to contain themselves while Castiel adjusted to Dean’s slightly above-average size. Dean groaned, “So fucking tight, Cas.”

“C’mon, Dean. Fuck my hole.”

Dean’s grip on Castiel’s hip tightened as he cursed under his breath, trying not to come right then and there. He rasped, “You’ve got such a filthy mouth when you’re horny. Fuck, you don’t know what it’s doing to me.”

Castiel was even a little startled out of his lustful state at the words spilling out of him. He’d been known to drop his more formal attitude when things got heated, but knowing the affect it had on Dean had him running his mouth. His ankles wrapped behind Dean’s thighs and pulled him in deeper, “Your cock feels so good in me, Dean.”

Dean grunted before giving in and he started to move, hips accelerating as he buried himself in Castiel over and over again. He muttered with difficulty, “C’mon, Cas. Keep saying dirty shit. It’s so fucking hot. Your voice is too fucking sexy, I can’t stand it.”

Castiel moaned as Dean managed to graze his prostate, “Right there. Just like that.” After a few tries, Dean managed to find out just where to aim until Castiel was bucking up on his cock and letting a stream of dirty words flow from his mouth, “Uh, Dean. Harder, fuck my wet hole harder.”

Dean groaned and his rhythm faltered for a few strokes before he got a hold of himself again, “Cas… Cas, so bossy it’s driving me crazy. Wanna fuck you crazy.”

Dean pulled up Castiel’s hips in both of his hands, his fingers digging into the soft skin in his lower back as he pounded into Castiel without restraint.

Castiel moaned loudly, his hands clutching the sheets as his elbows provided the leverage he needed to meet each of Dean’s powerful thrusts, his sleeves unrolling and flaring out with the buttons undone. He tossed his head back, mouth open in a silent scream as Dean found his prostate again and hammered against it with every stroke.

When he’d finally regained some sense of awareness, Castiel looked up at Dean, mesmerized. With eyes half-lidded and teeth bared, Dean was lost in the moment. Castiel’s eyes trailed over Dean’s arms, every muscle flexed tightly from holding Castiel up for so long, his chest that heaved with every sharp breath he took between short grunts that matched his thrusts, his hipbones that curved so perfectly to point to the thick cock that kept disappearing inside of him before pulling out to reveal its length, veins bulging slightly from under the soft skin. It was like watching the master of a craft give a flawless demonstration of his work. And it would have been stunning if Dean hadn’t jarred him from his reverie with a particularly hard thrust to his prostate.

Castiel cried out and Dean cursed in response. He shifted their positions, pushing Castiel’s thighs up until he was somewhat curled in on himself while he leaned in to dive into Castiel’s mouth with his tongue. The shift had changed the angle of his thrusts and Castiel let out a series of low moans into Dean’s mouth as the blonde rocked into him with shorter, slower strokes.

Dean’s pleasure spiked with every sound out of Castiel’s mouth, whether it was a filthy word, his name, or a carnal grunt. He had to slow things down or he would have come already, and he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. He knew he still wouldn’t last much longer, but he tried nonetheless.

The fact was, Dean’s had plenty of lays, but this was the best in recent memory. Maybe even all memory. And Castiel kept surprising him in the best (and dirtiest) ways. When he first caught his eye on the plane, he figured he was just some uptight business stiff. Even if he was into men, Dean had thought he might be at least a little prudish. It’s why it totally caught him by surprise when it was Castiel who initiated their in-flight fuck.

Even after Castiel had proven himself to be quite capable and in control in the airplane, Dean had thought that was all there was to it. So the guy gets off on fucking strangers where he’s not supposed to. Big deal. It wasn’t that uncommon. But the mouth on him drove Dean crazy. It wasn’t just the way his voice got all low and gravelly when he got heated, but the words that came out of him were downright dirty. They couldn’t be as loud on the plane, but in the privacy of a hotel room, Castiel seemed to forget he could control his volume. And Dean wasn’t about to complain about that.

Dean watched as Castiel threw his head back yet again with a groan, his throat exposed and chest heaving as Dean continued to press his length into the heat of his hole. Now that he wasn’t worried about crashing and burning in an airplane, Dean could pay more attention. And Castiel was gorgeous.

His hair was spiked up after he’d run his own hands through it, sweat beading and dripping down to the scratchy coverlet. His bright blue eyes kept going in and out of focus, staring back up at Dean until his prostate was teased again and he departed to some hazy state of ecstasy.

Castiel let out another long low moan and Dean had just about reached his limit. He choked out, “Cas, gonna… I’m gonna come.”

“Harder, Dean,” Castiel insisted. “Please, harder.”

Dean quickly brought them back to their previous position, holding up Castiel’s hips and sparing him a quick glance before pistoning his hips into him. They both released twin moans and Castiel grabbed his cock, stroking himself in time with Dean’s heavy thrusts.

It wasn’t long before Dean groaned, “’M coming. Cas!” He held up Castiel with one hand as the other propped him up as he rode out his orgasm, pumping in erratically. Castiel grabbed at Dean’s arm and used it to ride up on Dean’s twitching cock, still tugging at himself with his other hand, trying to chase his own happy ending.

But Dean had been holding out for too long and he finished before Castiel could reach his second orgasm. Dean propped himself on all fours over Castiel, winded from the power behind his release. He brought his lips to Castiel’s, mouthing idly at him in contrast to Castiel’s hungry licks. Dean reached between them and pushed away Castiel’s hand, taking his cock in his hand. He muttered against his throat where he was sucking a new spot that’d be just a little harder to hide, “I got you, Cas.”

He slid slowly in and out of Castiel despite his cock refusing to get any harder for a while as his hand pumped Castiel rapidly. Castiel huffed and Dean could tell it wasn’t enough. So he pulled out of Castiel, earning a frustrated groan. Dean smiled, “Hey, I said I got you. I’ll take care of you, nice and quick.”

Dean inched down the bed and once again brought his lips to Castiel’s cock, not wasting any time before bobbing up and down, his sucks getting progressively stronger. Castiel’s hand reached down to clutch at Dean’s hair, pulling his head down to his crotch and not meeting any resistance as Dean took him in deep.

Castiel was moaning loudly again by the time Dean slid his fingers inside of him, twisting and bending until Castiel arched up with a cry when Dean found his sweet spot. Dean kept pleasuring him mercilessly, his goal to get Castiel off as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t long before Castiel warned, “Dean, I’m coming!” He moaned as Dean only kept sucking as though he hadn’t heard him, clearly intending to take his load in his mouth again. The thought was what brought Castiel over the edge, pulling Dean in to push his cock to the back of his throat again. Dean gagged but managed to let Castiel slide even deeper, feeling his hot cum spurt into him.

Dean swallowed and Castiel’s grip on his hair relaxed. He teasingly twitched his fingers inside Castiel, who shivered from the oversensitivity, “I find it hard to believe you don’t know I already finished.”

Dean chuckled and pulled his fingers out. He plucked off his condom and tied it off before tossing it on the floor next to their discarded clothes. He then laid beside Castiel, head cocked to look at him with a smile, “Seriously, that shirt does things to me.”

Castiel laughed, “Does it now?”

Dean turned to face him, propping himself up on an elbow, his other hand plucking up the two ends of Castiel’s tie to pull him closer, “Yeah.” They kissed and it turned into a long, languid make out session before the two were fighting back yawns. Dean mumbled against Castiel’s chest, “Let’s put this on hold ‘til morning. Too tired.”

Castiel only nodded in response, his eyelids too heavy to keep open. They fell asleep without even turning off the lights.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The bright summer sun shone through the curtains, waking Castiel up from deep, peaceful sleep. He glanced down to see Dean, his cheek pressed against his shoulder and an arm flung over his chest. The sun’s rays hadn’t reached Dean’s eyes yet, so the man was still fast asleep, letting out the occasional soft snore.

Castiel smiled and carefully pulled himself out from under Dean, holding his head up until he could slide his warm pillow under it. Dean shifted in his sleep, his eyes pinched shut and lips smacking before he settled with a content sigh. Once Castiel was sure Dean hadn’t stirred, he puttered to the bathroom where he relieved himself and brushed his teeth before getting in the shower to wash the smell of sex off.

He came back out with a towel around his waist, surprised he hadn’t woken Dean with all of the noise he was making. He’d turned on his back and had an arm over his eyes, probably to escape the sun that had finally found him. But his mouth was wide open and his snores grew a little louder, proving he was quite the deep sleeper.

Dean‘s skin had turned gold since they first met from his weekend in the sun. Now that Castiel wasn’t preoccupied with other things, he noticed the slightly peeling skin on Dean’s shoulders where the skin had been burned before turning to a soft brown. Castiel found himself wanting to touch him.

The thought quickly turned into something naughty, and before Castiel could second-guess himself, he crawled under the sheets at the foot of the bed. Dean’s cock was already half-hard and Castiel carefully took it in his hand. He couldn’t see Dean from under the covers, but he hardly seemed to stir. So Castiel parted his lips and his tongue came out to meet the head of Dean’s cock, circling gently around it before he brought it to his mouth, sucking gently at it.

Dean let out a soft sigh as Castiel continued to play with his cock. His legs shifted open and his arms bent on either side of him, curling closer as Castiel brought him further. His hips moved closer to the warm heat that engulfed him and he murmured something under his breath, his chest starting to rise and fall more quickly.

Castiel gradually accelerated, careful not to be too abrupt as to wake up Dean but pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Dean started to moan without his awareness acting as a muffler, his hips canting up to chase after Castiel’s mouth. It wasn’t long before his eyes cracked open blearily as he regained consciousness, yet did nothing to signal his arousal except to gently lay a hand on Castiel’s head, the bedsheets acting as a veil and hiding him from sight.

With Dean awake, Castiel only got more unpredictable, bobbing faster and swirling his tongue around, hypnotized in the heat and heady musk that surrounded him under the tent of the sheets. It wasn’t long before Dean came with a groan and Castiel gulped him down.

They both remained where they were, limp. Finally, Dean pulled the covers up to see Castiel resting his head against Dean’s thigh, breathing softly over his spent cock. Dean croaked, voice still hoarse from sleep, “C’mere, Cas.”

Castiel dragged himself from the blankets until he was lined up with Dean who leaned in to kiss him. Dean smirked against his lips, “Couldn’t wake me up before jumping my bones?”

Castiel said, “No, I couldn’t.”

Dean pressed soft kisses along Castiel’s jaw as he muttered, “Did you even try?”

Castiel didn’t even try to conceal the playful tone in his voice as he said, “Tried once. Seems to have been effective.”

Dean laughed and rolled over Castiel, nuzzling against his ear and running a hand through his still-wet hair, “Ha! Yeah, wish my alarm clock felt that good.” They kissed lazily as Dean took hold of Castiel’s cock, tugging at it loosely. Castiel sighed at the rush of pleasure that caused his heart to race in his chest. Dean’s tongue delved into his mouth as he twisted his wrist, moving faster and making Castiel start to pant beneath him. There was a smile in Dean’s voice as he said, “You’re one eager bastard in bed, you know that? Honestly wasn’t counting on that first time I saw you.”

Castiel responded by bucking his hips up into Dean’s hand and gritting out, “Hurry up.”

“Love how bossy you are, fuck,” Dean said, his pumps getting faster. “Wanna see you come for me again. Wanna see you fucking lose it.”

Castiel’s hands gripped at Dean’s shoulders as he worked him, gasping at the current of pleasure coursing through him. Dean breathed into his ear, “I got you, Cas. Now come on. Let go.”

Castiel didn’t need any more persuasion as he came, moaning Dean’s name before his lips were covered with another set. Dean kept slowly pumping until Castiel stopped trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm. “I think I need another shower,” Castiel managed to say. “Care to join me?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean came out of the bathroom after a rather wet fuck in the shower to hear a buzzing sound on the floor. He dug through the clothes there to find his phone and notice 3 text messages and a missed call, all from Sam.

He started typing a quick message as Castiel emerged as well. Dean explained, “My brother gets a little paranoid when I run off into the night without calling.”

“Ah,” said Castiel, opening up his suitcase to pull out a fresh set of clothes and tugging on a pair of underwear, “What are you going to tell him?”

Dean flashed a grin, “That I’m having an illicit affair with a closeted senator in exchange for political favors. That kinda thing happens all the time in California, right?”

Castiel pursed his lips, holding back a laugh as Dean started to dress himself. Castiel asked, “Would he believe you?”

“I think he thinks there’s very little I wouldn’t do,” said Dean. “But he’s also good at detecting my bullshit. It was so much funnier when he was gullible.”

Another message arrived on Dean’s phone and Dean said, “Family calls. Guess this is where we part ways.”

Castiel nodded, disappointed that their time together had passed by so quickly. It was definitely a night to remember. He said, “Yes, you should spend time with them. I was glad to have your company.”

They went to the door and Dean was in the hall when he turned around, “Yeah, I had a good time.”

Castiel gave him a soft smile, “I hope your flight home is a little more tolerable.”

Dean cringed, “I doubt it. Don’t remind me I’ve got to get on another plane.”

“Sorry.” Castiel said, “I hope you have a tolerable journey home, nonetheless. It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Dean idled for a moment and turned to walk away before he stopped himself. He said, “Listen… If you’re ever in Kansas again, would you wanna maybe do this again sometime?”

Castiel smiled, “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” Dean read out his number as Castiel plugged it into his phone before asking, “Your name is Dean…”

“Winchester. I’ll see you around.” Dean gave him a quick wink before turning on his heel and making his way to the elevators.

Castiel stared down at the new addition to the contact list in his phone. His smile got wider. He hadn’t lied to Dean. But he did fail to mention that he happened to live in Kansas too.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Castiel's business trip over and done with, he tries to return to the daily grind. But a night of careless debauchery sets off a chain of events that he feels less than equipped to handle.
> 
> Excerpt:
> 
> It was not easy to forget that night. It wasn’t easy to forget anything he’d done with Dean.  
> Castiel was surprised he had the guts to bring up yet another meeting. Even more surprised that Dean seemed so enthusiastic about it.  
> ...Work was a nightmare. He was grateful that he had his own office with a desk that had a panel in front of it so even if he found himself a little too heated for work, he could just sit at his desk and hide the evidence from anybody who needed to see him. And, not that he’d ever been too passionate about his work before, and his weekends weren’t usually all that thrilling, but now that he’d had something to look forward to, he discovered just how impatient he could be for the work week to end. For the first time he finally understood his co-worker’s happiness at getting through ‘hump day’, knowing he didn’t have that long to wait.  
> But he couldn’t seem to handle it.

“Need to borrow this.”

Before he could react, Castiel felt the pen disappear from his grip in the middle of signing his expense report for his latest business trip. He merely sighed and waited as the scruffy blonde man who’d swiped his pen scribbled a note on the skin of his wrist before tugging the sleeve back down to hide the fresh black ink.

The man handed back the pen, “Thanks, Cassie. Just got off the phone with a gorgeous Chilean woman I met at a club the other night and didn’t want to forget the details of our next rendezvous.”

Castiel took the pen and finished scratching out his signature, “That’s all well and good, Balthazar, but would it really be so difficult to keep your personal affairs out of work? It’s not like I don’t hear this enough every time I see you.”

Balthazar scoffed, “Oh, you’re one to talk about keeping things professional. And I’ll have you know it’s not an affair. At least, I don’t think she’s married. Whatever.”

Castiel asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean I didn’t see any ring and she seemed only too eager to-“

“No, I meant about keeping things professional.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes, “Oh, please. Like I haven’t noticed the stick’s come out of your ass.”

“I’ve only been back for three hours.”

“Exactly, the memories are still fresh. This office hasn’t drained the life out of you again yet. Anyway, you’ve clearly been mixing business with pleasure.”  When Castiel averted his eyes, his face flushing, Balthazar said in disbelief, “No… I was only kidding. I thought maybe the California weather did you some good. So you did get laid? Good going, Cassie.”

Castiel abruptly got up from his desk, expense report in hand as he left his office and strode quickly into the office pool. Balthazar followed him briskly, trying to keep his eyes on Castiel without knocking into the thin walls of the cubicles in the narrow corridor, “You’ve got to tell me all about it. After all, this isn’t exactly a common occasion. Did you make the first move? I don’t think so. What’d she look like? Or… well, I almost forgot since you never seem too bothered to find yourself some tail, but you’re more into gentlemen, aren’t you?”

Castiel snapped under his breath, “Balthazar!” He tugged at his collar nervously, his tie loosening slightly.

Balthazar said, “Relax, nobody heard me. Anyway, was it? I’ve got to know who has broken this horrendously long dry spell of yours. I mean, they really must have been something for you to come out of your little turtle shell.”

Castiel couldn’t help it as his face grew redder at the thought that, yes, Dean really was something. Something he hadn’t experienced in a long time, if ever.

“Wow,” said Balthazar. “Cassie? Hello? You seem to have departed for a bit there.”

Castiel stopped near the elevators and pulled an inter-office envelope from the shelf on the wall, “Sorry. I’m not exactly used to discussing my personal life at work, which, as I thought I’d made clear before, I have no desire to.” He stuffed his documents in the envelope and hastily scribbled ‘Accounting’ on the next available line on the worn manila paper, tossing the envelope in the mail cart just as one of the temps arrived to cart it away.

As Castiel pivoted and made his way back to his office where he fully intended to lock Balthazar out, the other man continued to pester him, “Fine, I suppose if I have to suffer until the end of the day to hear it, I can somehow muddle through. But you’re telling me over a beer tonight. My treat. How’s that sound?”

Castiel groaned as he swept into his office, “Alright. Just let me work.” And he shut the door, but not before catching Balthazar’s victorious smile.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before going back to his desk to write up another report on the conference he’d attended and the information about the parties who’d seemed interested in what his company had to offer. He sat there at his desk for a moment, thoughts of Dean always lingering at least at the back of his mind, considering he’d given him the most memorable weekend he could remember.

But after Balthazar’s insistence for details, Dean was back at the forefront, demanding his attention. The freckles across his face and shoulders. The lopsided smile he’d make when he cracked a joke. The way his arms wrapped tight around him when the plane shook. How his hands gripped tight around Castiel’s hips as he moved in him, his breathy groans surrounding him as he lightly bumped him into the headboard.

Castiel let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and shook himself from the distracting thoughts. Even as he willed himself to relax, he could feel himself getting a little too excited for the workplace. While he was glad he got to have such a great weekend, he still wished there was some way to forget about it from 9 to 5. Luckily, there was a pile of paperwork that had been left for him in his absence, as well as a rather crowded e-mail inbox, and nothing quite quashed his excitement like a long day at work to look forward to. He grabbed the first envelope he saw and tore it open, determined to get it all done and temporarily put his happy thoughts to rest.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Balthazar had been merciful, not saying a word about what was clearly on the tip of his tongue all day, waiting instead until they were in a booth at their usual hole-in-the-wall bar, a couple of tall beers in front of them. Castiel suspected it was only because he didn’t want him to change his mind or spare any details.

As soon as Balthazar finished a polite first sip, he said with an easy quirk of his eyebrow, “So… are you going to tell me about this mystery shag, or what?”

Castiel gulped down a third of his beer, stalling what he knew would be the inevitable. When it came to Balthazar, there was little he could do to keep his sexual life a secret. Even though it wasn’t the case, he entertained himself by blaming Balthazar’s intrusiveness for his sexual hesitance.

Finally, Castiel said, “We met on the plane.”

Balthazar waited a moment before saying sarcastically, “Oh, interesting. You met on the plane, lovely. Let’s call it a night.” His normally delicate posture faltered as he leaned closer, “C’mon, Cassie. I haven’t seen you so flustered in I don’t know how long. I know there’s plenty to tell, so don’t you dare skimp.”

Castiel sighed and leaned back in his seat, “It was his first flight and he was scared to fly so I sat with him.”

Balthazar smiled, “How precious. Now when does this sugary sweetness turn into something a little less revolting?”

Castiel felt the blush return once again with a vengeance and he stared at the droplets of water collecting on his beer’s coaster, struggling to spit out, “I was trying to keep him distracted from the flight. He’d made it clear early on he was interested and when nothing else seemed to keep his mind occupied, I… I-“ His eyes made their way back up to Balthazar’s and he gave a tiny tilt of his head.

Balthazar’s jaw dropped, “No… Cassie, on the plane!”

Castiel immediately brought both of his hands up to cover his burning face, feeling just as shocked as Balthazar now that he’d finally admitted what he’d done. His alarm reminded him that even for someone with Balthazar’s libido and nonchalant attitude, what he did was more of a much more of a fantasy than your average sexual experience.

“Okay… who are you and what have you done with Castiel? I mean, honestly…” Balthazar chuckled, thoroughly enthralled, “I’ve half a mind not to believe you, but I doubt you’d have the imagination to spin such a naughty story. Where’d you get the bullocks to do something like that? What’s gotten into you?”

Castiel wondered the same thing. It was the boldest thing he’d ever done, inviting Dean to the back of the plane. The bravest he’d ever felt. It was surprising to him that he’d ever had it in him. Something about Dean dared him to do it, something about that wink that seemed to push him to start talking to the man who was so… hot, he wouldn’t have dared to otherwise.

As soon as their eyes met, Castiel had felt like such a different person, like he’d been living in somebody else’s skin this whole time. There were aspects of him uncovered that he never knew existed: confident, spontaneous, even erotic, which is one word he never would have applied to himself in any context previously.

Balthazar interrupted his train of thought with a short bark of a laugh, “I’m speechless. I don’t even know what to say. Seriously, I think I might be having palpitations. This is too rich.”

Castiel groaned, slowly emerging from behind his hands, “You can pretend I never said anything.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Balthazar took another sip from his beer before saying, as if asking about the weather, “So how was it? I’d imagine it was a bit cramped in there.”

Castiel raised one hand back up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He was used to Balthazar’s lack of a filter, but this time his probing questions were directed at his brand new sex life, and he’d never had this problem before. “Balthazar, please…”

“No, please, I have to know. I can’t believe you’ve done something I haven’t. It’s driving me insane. Was it any good?”

A new wave of embarrassment rose in Castiel at the knowledge that he’d achieved something sexually that even someone as experienced as Balthazar hadn’t. It made him feel like a stranger to himself, a stranger who somehow took the reins again right there in the bar as he said coolly, “Not as good as in bed.”

Balthazar’s eyebrows shot up, almost reaching his hairline in surprise as he stuttered, “Not- not the same…?”

Castiel only nodded and Balthazar shook his head, a smile splitting across his face, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Cassie, but I like it.” He raised his glass to Castiel who lifted his with a minimal amount of enthusiasm as Balthazar toasted him and they both downed the rest of their beers. Balthazar slapped his hands on the table, invigorated, and he said, “I hope you know we’re both getting hammered tonight,” before sliding out of the booth and back to the bar.

Castiel wasn’t one to drink excessively either, but he figured, why the hell not. He’d already trampled over every expectation he’d ever had for himself, he might as well enjoy this twist to his personality before it faded away.

Three beers, four shots, and a club down the street later, Castiel still wasn’t regretting it. He felt good. He was dancing for the first time since… well, he couldn’t even remember. The music was way too loud, but even that couldn’t bother him tonight. Balthazar, with his higher alcohol tolerance and not-so-secret strategy to fill up Castiel with booze, was keeping an eye on him. Why drink when he could watch Castiel make a fool of himself on the dance floor with a dopey smile that graced his face for the first time in ages?

Castiel was pulled away to the bar, Balthazar doing his best to follow him through the crowd, but failing to reach him in time to stop him from sucking down a tequila shot with the girl he’d been dancing with, who managed to get him to pay for it. Balthazar put himself between Castiel and the girl, doing his best to get Castiel to the exit before he passed out cold.

And Balthazar was right to do so. Not five minutes later, the tequila had made Castiel give up his efforts to remain upright, and Balthazar dragged him out of the bar and into a cab, laughing the whole way as Castiel babbled things like, “He wazzo hot, Balth,” and, “I said things that would make even you blush.”

Castiel woke up only an hour later in his own bed, shoes and shirt off. He stumbled into the bathroom to strip off his pants, take a much-needed piss and rinse out the bad taste in his mouth. His nap had done nothing except restore his energy, and he was still pretty wasted.

He tossed and turned in bed for a few minutes before he got bored and slipped a hand into his underwear, grabbing his cock and shamelessly jerking himself off to thoughts of Dean, who’d been running through his mind all week. Not long after he’d started, he shifted his position, painfully knocking his elbow into the nightstand. He cussed under his breath, glaring at the offending furniture. As soon as he’d finished rubbing the pain out of his arm, his eyes caught sight of something on the nightstand.

He didn’t even need to think about it before he snatched his phone up and aimed the camera at his cock, now fully hard and leaking. He gave himself a few more pumps before snapping a picture, the flash of the camera causing him to curse yet again. Nevertheless, he kept right on jerking as he scrolled through his contacts, having a hard time concentrating since he was so close to finishing. It was then that he got his next bright idea.

He closed out of his contacts and went back to the camera, switching it to video mode. It was so dark, he reached for his bedside lamp, the light casting shadows all over the room. He aimed the lens at himself again and hit record, pumping himself even faster now, struggling to keep the camera steady as he grunted and groaned until he finally came all over his hand with a soft moan of, “Deannnn…”

He somehow managed to end the recording and he felt suddenly sleepy again. His eyelids drooped as he rolled on his side and wiped his cum on the sheets, deciding it would best be dealt with in the morning, and enlisting both hands to help him find Dean’s name in his contact list before he passed out again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A buzzing under his hand woke Castiel up late the next morning. His eyes fluttered open, and a moment later, it was all he could do to make sure he reached the bathroom in time before his stomach voided its contents into the toilet. Castiel groaned aloud before another bout of nausea had him retching again, his head suffering a splitting pain.

Once he was sure he wasn’t going to puke in the next few minutes, Castiel wobbled up to his feet and flushed the toilet. He opened up the mirror to grab the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet. As he shook out three tablets (he wasn’t taking any chances) and swallowed them down with a gulp of tap water, he made a mental note to maybe strangle Balthazar for letting him get so drunk, even though he knew he only had himself to blame. It made him feel better having Balthazar and his bad influence to blame for his less honorable moments, even when he did admit to himself that if he was capable, he would have corrupted Castiel a long time ago. No, this was all his own doing.

He carried on with his day, grateful that it was Saturday as he tossed his phone back on the nightstand, ignoring the blinking green light that indicated a notification. He didn’t feel like answering work e-mails and deleting junk mail in his current state. He stripped his filthy, sweaty sheets off his bed, threw them and the rest of his laundry into the machine, and made himself a breakfast of plain toast and orange juice as it was the only thing he thought his stomach could handle.

While the pain reminded him that he wasn’t as young as he used to be, he was still almost glad he had that night out. It wasn’t like he was fresh out of college anymore. Nights like those, however horrible he felt the next day, were fun on occasion. And he knew he didn’t have many occasions left before he decided he was way too old to venture out again. It was a good thing, he thought, immediately taking back his words as the too-sweet orange juice was rejected and he found himself rushing to the bathroom again.

Much later, when the sun was setting, Castiel snuggled under fresh sheets and blankets with a bowl of canned chicken noodle soup in his lap as he flipped through the channels. He found some relatively recent Pixar movie on that he hadn’t seen before, so he left it on as he slurped up his soup, finding that the hot, salty broth was the only thing his stomach agreed with all day.

His phone buzzed again and Castiel figured he’d been neglecting the outside world for too long, so he picked it up. As expected, his email was full of junk and work-related memos. He flipped through his messages, one from Balthazar, teasing him about last night, the next also from Balthazar, asking if he was actually okay and announcing that he’d be back later. The last was from… Dean Winchester?

Castiel nearly inhaled one of his noodles as he choked in surprise. He hadn’t given Dean his number, he’d only gotten his. The only way Dean could have gotten it is if he contacted him first, and he didn’t remember doing that.

But then again, there was a lot he didn’t remember about the previous night.

He put his bowl on the nightstand before he could spill his soup all over himself and his freshly-made bed. He held his breath as he opened the message that read:

 

Dean Winchester (11:21 AM):

well good morning to you too

thats some way to give a guy your number cas

youre just full of surprises arent you?

 

Castiel froze. What had he done?

The dread didn’t build up for very long before Castiel scrolled up to see a video attachment as the first and only message sent from his phone to Dean’s, with no accompanying text to give him any clue as to what he’d sent. His hands were shaking as he tapped his screen to open the attachment.

“Ohh, ah…”

Castiel’s stomach flipped, and it wasn’t because of the nausea. That was him moaning through the phone’s speaker. The video was dark and grainy, and the angle kept changing as he must have struggled to aim it properly. Castiel found himself praying that it didn’t find what he knew it was looking for, but only found himself helplessly disappointed and horrified when his throbbing cock filled the small screen, his hand wrapped around it and jerking in earnest.

Castiel’s eyes stayed wide open for the entire forty-five seconds the video played, until his groan of “Deannnn” cut off with the end of the video.

Castiel sat there, dumbfounded. He wasn’t sure how long it was before he finally came to his senses and started thinking rationally (or, at least, as rationally as he could, considering the circumstances). He couldn’t ignore it. It was too late for damage control. Maybe if he’d immediately answered Dean’s text he could’ve played off the “I was drunk” excuse. It was true, after all. But he’d ignored his phone all morning and it may have seemed fully intentional to send Dean such an explicit video. It’d be too odd to back out now. Who was he kidding? It was weird to send it at all.

What was happening to him, Castiel thought? First it was sex on a plane with a complete stranger. Then getting hammered. Then sexting (which he’d never imagined himself doing since he wasn’t a teenager!) the man he only met a week ago. He barely knew the guy! He might as well be a dream or a figment of his imagination, he felt so separated from what had happened. He’d done a 180, completely flipped every switch. And he couldn’t understand how that came to be.

He let out a shaky breath before typing out:

 

           You (05:37 PM):

I suppose. How was your flight?

 

Immediately after hitting the send button, Castiel said aloud, “That was stupid. Idiot.” He waited, movie forgotten and soup growing cold as he stared at his phone. He nearly jumped when the phone vibrated and lit up. He immediately opened Dean’s reply:

 

           Dean Winchester (05:39 PM):

           huh way to change the subject

anyway it sucked

           but i think you’ve ruined me for flying if you catch my drift

 

Castiel changed his mind and quickly tapped out:

 

           You (05:39 PM):

           I’m sorry for that video. I’d had too much to drink and I wasn’t myself.

 

Dean responded:

 

           Dean Winchester (05:41 PM):

           dont apologize man i actually kinda liked it

           but dont be offended that i dont send anything raunchy back your way

           that only comes after the third date ;)

 

Castiel couldn’t remember ever blushing so much in his life. So, naturally, that’s when he heard a knock at his front door, Balthazar calling out in a sing-song voice, “Oh, Cassie! I’ve brought you some goodies!”

Castiel leapt out of bed and scrambled to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He could hear Balthazar’s footsteps in the apartment, drifting into the kitchen to drop something on the table, it sounded like, before the steps came closer as he called again, “Cassie, are you alright in there?”

Castiel stuttered, “Y-yeah, I’ll be alright. Just had a rough day.”

Balthazar’s chuckle carried through the door, “Ah, I’m not surprised. Do you remember anything?”

Castiel frowned as he admitted truthfully, “Not really. I remember us leaving the bar. I think we went somewhere else though.”

“That’d be the club, dear. Just make yourself decent and I’ll whip something up for you. I’ll fill you in on the details if you’d like.”

Balthazar walked away and Castiel checked himself in the mirror. His blush was gone, and he did his best to keep his worry lines from being too apparent. Balthazar could not find out about what he’d sent to Dean. He’d never let him hear the end of it and Castiel preferred to take that secret to his grave..

By the time Castiel felt he’d put on enough of a mask to step foot out of the bathroom, Balthazar had already whipped up some bacon and eggs. He looked up from the frying pan and smiled, “Well, well, well. How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Castiel said, slumping into a kitchen chair.

“I can assure you nothing of the sort happened.” Balthazar scraped the food onto a plate and went over to the toaster where the bread seemed to pop out exactly when he approached as though it were waiting for him. He pushed the full plate to Castiel, “A little breakfast for dinner seems to do the trick for me when all else fails.”

Castiel took the utensils Balthazar extended to him and said, “Well, breakfast for breakfast didn’t seem to work out in my favor.” Still, he scooped up the eggs and chowed down as Balthazar chuckled.

“You should’ve seen yourself last night. It’s like we turned back the clock. Well, not like you used to party all that hard back in the day either, but you know what I mean.”

Castiel shrugged, “You got me drunk. I don’t know what you were expecting.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to get so talkative. My, my, Cassie, the things you had to say.”

“What?” Castiel tried his best to maintain some air of calm and dignity, but he was truly dreading what he might have said.

Balthazar smiled knowingly, “Oh, it’s just that you barely wanted to tell me a thing when we first got to the bar, but by the time I got you home… let’s just say I know most of the gory details.”

And Castiel found himself in the same position he was in 24-hours ago, slumped over the table with his face in his hands from embarrassment. He muttered through his fingers, “Please, don’t tell another soul.”

“Oh, you know I’m not a gossip. This is purely for my own amusement. I mean, just look at you.” Castiel groaned and Balthazar laughed, “It’s too good.”

Castiel took another moment to collect himself before emerging to eat again, his appetite having returned after all of the energy he spent feeling like an idiot, he supposed.

He was scraping up the last of the eggs when Balthazar said, “So, Dean sounds like a nice guy.”

Castiel managed not to choke this time around and he said, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Cassie, it’s too late to say you don’t kiss and tell.”

Castiel got up to wash the dishes, grateful for an excuse to keep his face turned away from Balthazar, “I know, and it seems I’ve already told you enough. Can we drop it?”

“But you’ve got his number!” Castiel struggled to keep his grip on the slippery mug in his hand, hoping he hadn’t given too much away with the loud clatter it made against the side of the sink. Balthazar said, “Don’t worry, I won’t make you call him right in front of me. But I will keep pestering you until you give him a ring.”

He doesn’t press further, and for that, Castiel is relieved. But he can’t help but feel disturbed that the mid-air sex and late-night booty call have become lesser concerns than his drunken amateur porno.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the weekend went by quietly, which Castiel greatly appreciated. His headache finally subsided some time Saturday evening, and his Sunday was spent running errands, mainly restocking he refrigerator he’d left mostly empty before his trip. Before he knew it, he was back at home on Monday night after work, his weekend gone by in a blur.

He was going over some of the work e-mails he hadn’t gotten around to in the office, curled up in bed with his laptop, when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He stared at the little picture of an envelope that appeared on the screen, the words “Dean Winchester” hovering above it. After a few moments’ hesitation, he picked up the phone and opened the message:

 

           Dean Winchester (10:18 PM):

           hows it goin

 

That’s it? Castiel immediately responded:

 

           You (10:18 PM):

           I’m fine. Just taking care of some work before bed.

           How about you?

 

Castiel returned to his laptop, not quite as frazzled about the situation as he’d been all weekend. Sure, he’d made one of the biggest mistakes of his life and embarrassed himself more than he ever thought was possible, but he’d decided to consider the last week a case of temporary mental instability. It’d be easier, he thought, to handle this normally instead of flying into panic mode every time he thought about it. He was grateful that his over-analytical mind just barely trumped his anxiety, and he’d managed to get through the work day fairly normally.

Dean’s reply arrived just as he’d sent one of his co-workers some spreadsheets:

 

           Dean Winchester (10:23PM):

           im alright…

           i was just thinking about last weekend

 

Another message arrived just as Castiel had finished reading the last one:

 

           Dean Winchester (10:24 PM):

           that videos been helping me get to sleep at night by the way

 

Castiel gawked at his phone for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Instead, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to concentrate on work anymore, he shut down his laptop and put it away. He left his phone behind as he went to the bathroom to brush and floss his teeth, trying to bat away the part of his mind that was wondering exactly what Dean was doing at that moment.

It didn’t help him any, seeing as he was half-hard by the time he crawled back under the covers and picked up his phone to find two more messages from Dean:

 

           Dean Winchester (10:29 PM):

           ive been thinking about you. well mostly about your cock

 

           Dean Winchester (10:32 PM):

           i know i said no sextig but i relly wanna break that rule rigt now

 

Dean had all but confirmed the thoughts Castiel was trying so hard to avoid. He was jerking off. To thoughts of him.

It was surprising and hot at the same time, but mostly, he was stunned. He was in the middle of tapping a message back when he was interrupted by an incoming one:

 

           Dean Winchester (10:33 PM):

           cant stp thinkingg about your dock

           video didnt help

 

Castiel couldn’t help the nervous chuckle at the typos that escaped him before he finished his text:

 

           You (10:34 PM):

           You’re not easy to forget yourself.

           I’ve been pretty distracted lately thanks to you.

 

Once again, Castiel was a bit surprised by his daring. He still refused to acknowledge the obvious, despite his boner telling him to keep Dean talking and join in on the fun. He decided against the first but couldn’t stop himself from the latter, his hand finding its way back down his pants for the umpteenth time that week.

His phone buzzed again:

 

           Dean Winchester (10:37 PM):

           fuck it wont sexr but I dont have any ruls againt this

 

Before Castiel could ask what he meant, his phone vibrated steadily in his hand. Without thinking, he pressed the answer icon and held the phone up to his ear, waiting with bated breath.

He could hear heavy breathing on the other end of the line, and something wet-sounding. A few moments later he heard a hoarse, “Cas? You there?”

“Y-yes.”

“Oh, fuck.” Dean let out a strained groan before huffing out, “Talk to me, man. Say anything, just wanna hear your sexy voice.”

Castiel remained silent, merely listening in awe at Dean’s grunts and groans. His cock only swelled at what he was hearing, and he kept working himself despite his sudden stage fright, feeling on-the-spot with nothing to say.

Dean filled the silence with a short moan and said, “C’mon, Cas. Anything. Tell me about Friday night. What made you- ahh… what inspired your dick flick?”

“You,” Castiel found himself saying. He continued, “Couldn’t stop thinking about what we did. Got drunk and bored and… I just felt like it.”

“Uh, yeah…” Dean groaned. Castiel could hear him shift in his bed and moan as the wet sound grew louder, faster, “Keep going.”

“Then I passed out.”

Dean let out a pained laugh, “Fuck you, Cas.”

Castiel chuckled before shutting his eyes, envisioning Dean tugging at himself. He realized he hadn’t seen that with his own eyes, so he was working on pure imagination. Dean sprawled out on a bed, dragging his hand up and down, faster and faster over his thick cock, his face flushed, highlighting the freckles there, green eyes dark and lidded. He didn’t have to imagine the sounds coming out of his mouth though. Every breath, every moan only made his fantasy take a turn.

Castiel finally picked up the pace, his hand moving faster over his cock, feeling warmth fill him up. He huffed, “You said to tell you about Friday. Didn’t tell you about Sunday. Or this morning.”

Dean’s voice was deep with lust as he asked, “What’d you do?”

“Sunday I spent half the night thinking about you. And I had to do something about what it did to me.”

“Mmm, you don’t say?”

“This morning… in the shower… thought about that morning in the hotel bathroom.”

“Uhh, that was good, huh?”

“Yeah…” Castiel found himself short of breath, but couldn’t keep his mouth shut, “You tasted good.”

Dean let out a slightly louder moan at that before saying, “Miss your cock, Cas. When you’re back in town, I wanna… ah… wanna ride you.”

Castiel bit back a groan, “Ride me?”

“Like a fucking bronco.”

Castiel chose not to say another word, instead focusing on the task literally at hand since Dean’s words lit a fire in him.

Dean muttered, frustrated, “It’s not enough, Cas. I think your cock’s bigger.”

“Than what?” Castiel asked, “Yours?”

Dean scoffed, “No, genius. Than the dildo in my ass. ‘Cept you don’t vibrate.”

Castiel moaned as his mental image of Dean completely transformed. Dean curled on his back with his knees bent up, pushing the dildo in with the phone resting on the pillow beside him. Dean on his knees, propped up on one arm as the other reached behind him to play with himself. Dean moaning in his ear as he filled himself up, wishing it was Castiel.

It was enough to push Castiel to the edge. He breathed, “Dean, I’m close. I’m about to… ah!”

Dean muttered, “Yeah, Cas… come on, wanna hear you when you cum.”

Castiel murmured, “Wish I could… inside you…”

Dean moaned, “Fuck, Cas, I’m gonna- uh!”

They both were reduced to breathless curses and crying out each other’s names as they came, not knowing who finished first.

It was Dean who finally spoke first, “That was… well, let’s just say I can’t wait until we can re-enact that together sometime. Could go for round three.”

Castiel smiled sleepily, “Could be soon.”

“You’re in town?”

“Uh…” Castiel decided to keep his place of residence a secret a little longer, starting to remember that the person he was with Dean and the person he was the rest of the time weren’t the same, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to bring them together yet, if ever. He explained without being completely honest, “Yeah. But I’m busy with work all week. Saturday?”

“Mmm-hmm. I think I can hold out ‘til then. I’ll see you around.” There was a smile in his voice and Castiel could visualize the wink Dean gave him as he left his hotel room.

Castiel said, “Good night.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was not easy to forget that night. It wasn’t easy to forget anything he’d done with Dean.

Castiel was surprised he had the guts to bring up yet another meeting. Even more surprised that Dean seemed so enthusiastic about it.

It didn’t matter whether they met soon or never again. It didn’t stop their previous acts (and Castiel’s own fantasies) from invading his consciousness at the most inopportune times. He’d had to blame his random bouts of blushing at work on a fake cold he’d tried to play off convincingly enough, with false coughing and everything. It seemed enough to fool Balthazar, who still thought Castiel hadn’t contacted Dean at all. Oh, if only he knew.

Work was a nightmare. He was grateful that he had his own office with a desk that had a panel in front of it so even if he found himself a little too heated for work, he could just sit at his desk and hide the evidence from anybody who needed to see him. And, not that he’d ever been too passionate about his work before, and his weekends weren’t usually all that thrilling, but now that he’d had something to look forward to, he discovered just how impatient he could be for the work week to end. For the first time he finally understood his co-worker’s happiness at getting through ‘hump day’, knowing he didn’t have that long to wait.

But he couldn’t seem to handle it.

Thursday afternoon, Castiel sat in his office, trying not to shift in his seat too much because, he’d found, if he moved in just the right (or wrong) way while he was preoccupied with other things, it triggered his libido and it was too late in the day to bide his time for a boner to go away on its own. He was staring at his computer monitor at the same spreadsheet for 10 minutes, barely making any progress and he tried and failed to ignore his one-track mind that kept repeating Saturday, Saturday, Saturday.

It was maddening, and Castiel found himself sneaking out of the office a half-hour early to cool his head. The summer heat seemed to have the opposite effect, only frustrating him further when his car’s air conditioner decided to quit on him. He got home and peeled off his sweaty work clothes, jumping into a cold shower. He refrained from touching himself. It felt indecent to do it almost as much as he had when he was a teenager, and he wanted to maintain at least a little self-respect.

He tried to be patient, he really did. But he could barely concentrate on making himself a simple sandwich for dinner and instead of adding another tomato slice, he found himself on his phone, tapping out a message:

 

           You (6:38 PM):

           Forget Saturday. Are you free now?

 

He’d have been embarrassed to appear so eager, but he hadn’t felt anything this good in a long time, and like a kid with a new toy, it’s all he wanted to do until he got bored of it. He didn’t think it was possible to get bored, but still, he couldn’t come up with a better metaphor in his state of mind.

His phone buzzed back a reply:

 

           Dean Winchester (6:40 PM):

           dude yes!

 

Another quickly followed:

 

           Dean Winchester (6:40 PM):

           just glad im not the one who broke first

           come over

heres my address

 

Castiel’s heart thumped anxiously in his chest, but the excitement drowned out any nerves he had had. He rushed to his car, plugged the address into his GPS, and made his way over with the windows down the whole way, feeling a slight thrill that Dean only lived about a half hour away, just a few minutes longer (but in the opposite direction) of his normal work commute. But he quashed the thought and any hopes of turning this into a regular thing. Yet another term he’d never have associated with himself before was “fuck buddy”, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to add that to his new list of identifiers.

While the Lawrence address Dean gave him didn’t contain an apartment number, he was still a little surprised when he pulled up to a two-story home in the small suburban town with a manicured lawn, shrubs and clusters of white flowers decorating the front edge of the house, and a gnarled tree in the front yard.

He started to feel a bit suspicious and thought maybe his GPS had misdirected him. Dean looked fairly young. Definitely in his twenties at least, but definitely not in his thirties either. Even still, it wasn’t impossible that maybe he still lived with his parents (how could someone his age afford a house like this in this economy?), which would make this way more awkward than he could ever be prepared for.

He felt a hope in him he didn’t know was there begin to falter. There was only one car in the driveway, a beautiful classic car that had to be inherited because nobody could afford the maintenance on a car like that these days. Maybe Dean was a spoiled brat, too comfortable with mom and pop to bother leaving. Something about sleeping with a possible man-child who couldn’t maintain responsibility for his own life, no matter how gorgeous he was, suddenly became a huge turn-off for Castiel, and he was starting to second-guess himself about this whole thing.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn’t notice when the front door swung open. A sharp whistle made him snap his head around to look and find Dean leaning casually against the doorway with a grin on his face, in a dark green t-shirt, jeans and bare feet. Castiel’s doubts started to fade away at the sight. He still maintained an air of caution, but he figured he could give Dean a chance. After all, there was something warm about Dean that seemed to charm him and lure him in like a moth to a flame. He could only hope it wouldn’t end as badly.

Castiel came out of the car and made his way up the walk. He’d hardly said hello before Dean grabbed his wrist and dragged him inside, slamming the door behind him. The next thing he knew, a hand on the back of his neck pulled him forward and Dean’s lips were on his, ravenous. It seemed that they were past standard greetings, so Castiel threw all of his reservations out of the window and responded with similar enthusiasm, incredibly turned-on that Dean seemed to want this at least as much as he did.

Dean pressed his hips into Castiel as his hands trailed down his chest and grabbed at the hem of his t-shirt. With lips against Castiel’s neck, Dean muttered, “Where’s your button-up? Was hoping it’d make an appearance.”

Castiel smiled, “I’d gotten home and changed before I contacted you. Sorry.”

“Forget about it,” Dean said, pulling the shirt over Castiel’s head and smirking. “You can make it up to me tonight.”

Castiel kicked off his running shoes as Dean mouthed his neck, pulling him to the stairway and reluctantly tearing himself away to drag Castiel up the stairs. Dean said, “C’mon. Bedroom. Now.”

They scrambled up the stairs and Dean pulled Castiel down the hall and into a doorway. He didn’t bother shutting the door behind him as his lips found Castiel’s again and he pressed his body against him, pushing him onto the bed. Castiel only tilted his head back as Dean leaned over him, opening his mouth so that Dean could taste inside.

Castiel leaned back, pulling Dean down with him. Dean yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, immediately returning his lips to Castiel’s, hungrily licking and nipping at him as his hands seemed set on touching every inch of skin he could reach, taking off the rest of Castiel’s clothes on their way.

When Dean backed away to shimmy out of his jeans, Castiel shifted further back on the bed. Dean crawled after him, straddling his lap and grinding their hard cocks together. They rutted against each other, hands roaming and tongues slithering to meet each other. Castiel’s hands grabbed at Dean’s ass, pulling him closer and spreading him open, his fingers teasing at his entrance.

Dean let out a sigh before muttering, “Hold on.”

He stretched across the bed, his groin somehow refusing to separate from Castiel’s despite the distance, and reached an arm over to dig through the nightstand. Castiel stared as Dean’s back muscles strained and shifted under tight golden skin as he rummaged in the drawer, the freckles across his shoulders causing Castiel to flush at the sight. Castiel said, “C’mon, Dean.” Before he could stop himself, he gave him a light swat on his ass.

Dean twisted around, his mouth half-open in an amused smile as he stared at Castiel in disbelief, “Did- Did you just slap my ass?”

“Uh… No?”

Dean let out a bark of a laugh before leaping back into Castiel’s lap, dropping the condom and lube on the bed. “It’s alright. Actually, I kinda liked it,” Dean said with a smirk and a wiggle of his ass. Castiel grinned right back before he leaned closer to kiss him.

As they made out, Castiel had swiped the bottle of lube from the bed, wetting his fingers before bringing them back to Dean’s hole, rubbing him there firmly. Dean let out a long groan and he pressed back into the pressure.

Cas slipped a finger in, stroking Dean from the inside and making him squirm in his lap as their tongues continued to lave each other. Dean took the condom from the bed, opening the packet and sliding it over Castiel’s cock expertly, still too busy kissing him to watch himself work.

Dean moaned as a second finger pushed its way inside, and Castiel didn’t wait long to add a third, relishing the feel of Dean clenching around him, squeezing his fingers tightly. Castiel could only imagine the same sensation around his cock, and it didn’t do any good for his patience.

Luckily for him, Dean couldn’t wait much longer either. He cried out as Castiel pressed against his prostate, and he gasped out, “Oh, fuck, Cas.” He shifted his hips up and away from Castiel’s fingers, reaching behind him grabbing Castiel’s cock to guide it to his hole, “Just fuck me already.”

He didn’t give Castiel a chance to answer before sliding down, slowly but steadily. They both groaned as Dean filled himself with Castiel, inch by inch until he was full of him. As he waited impatiently to adjust, Castiel muttered in his ear, “Wanted this so bad. Couldn’t wait.”

“Me neither,” Dean said. He wrapped an arm around Castiel for balance before craning his neck to nibble at his earlobe. His other hand slid into the small space between them as he started working himself.

Castiel put his hand over his and pulled it away, “Let me.” He put his hand around Dean’s cock and stroked him loosely. The soft touch had Dean panting softly until finally he was moving to chase Castiel’s hand, simultaneously sinking further down onto him. Both of them groaned at the friction, and Dean started to pick up the pace, resting his forearms against Castiel’s shoulders to help push himself up before taking him in again and again.

Their bodies shifted against each other, growing slick with sweat that was brought on by their exertion and the sweet, humid summer breeze that came through an open window. The sun was finally starting to set and the room was filled with a soft orange glow, making their skin appear luminous.

Castiel stopped jerking Dean, much to the other’s frustration, opting instead to grab his ass, spreading him open and grazing the edge of his stretched hole with a few of his fingers. He said, “You’re so tight. Fuck, it’s so good.”

“Cas,” Dean rasped before moving one hand behind him to prop himself up on Castiel’s thigh, leaning back and moving quicker, harder than before to make up for Castiel neglecting his cock, his other hand clutching Castiel’s shoulder, fingers struggling to maintain their grip on the sweat-soaked skin.

Castiel bit back a moan and said, “Did you miss my cock, Dean? Is that why you’re so eager for it?”

Dean panted, gyrating roughly in his lap, “Yes, oh god, yes.”

Castiel brought a hand up to Dean’s ribcage, his thumb circling his nipple before he bent down to bring his lips to it, kissing and nibbling at the olive-brown peak. He pulled away, and as he spoke, his breath cooled his saliva and caused Dean to shiver, “Look at you… the cowboy to my bronco.”

Dean laughed breathlessly, “Didn’t I tell you what I was gonna do when I saw you next? A good cowboy always keeps his word.” He groaned as Castiel bucked up into him in just the right way, “Uh, wish I knew where I put that old Stetson I had.”

“You own your own Stetson?”

Dean smiled cheekily, “What can I say? I’m a Western fan.”

Castiel couldn’t help but chuckle before returning his attention to Dean’s chest, muttering against his skin, “Mmm, I might be one too after this.”

And Dean would’ve laughed, except he’d managed to find the perfect angle to keep hitting his prostate, and he moaned as he ignored the strain in his thighs and kept pushing himself up and down, finding his target each and every time. He threw his head back and groaned, “Cas… Cas, I’m so close…”

Castiel put his arms around Dean’s back, pulling him close and pressing his cheek against his chest as he stopped holding back and let himself catch up to Dean, panting as he chased the pleasure that brought him right to the edge, “Oh, Dean… fuck, come for me.”

Castiel could hear Dean’s cry thrum in his chest as he came between them, following right behind him with a moan of his own.

Dean slumped over Castiel’s hunched form, letting his arms dangle limply over his back. They sat like that for a few minutes, only the sound of trees rustling and their breaths interrupting the silence. Castiel shivered as the early evening air blew in from the window behind him, giving him a chill that sprouted goosebumps across his back. Dean’s arms tightened lightly around him as he muttered, “You’re welcome to stay the night. If you want.”

Castiel merely nodded against his chest. He was tired, and if they slept this early, he’d be up in time to make it to work. He didn’t want to think about leaving when he was so content to just be there,

He let Dean guide him down on the bed, watching as the blonde padded over to the connecting bathroom, coming back cleaned up and carrying a damp washcloth that he used to clean up Castiel before taking off his condom and getting rid of it. Castiel just lay there and let Dean take care of him, he was so tired.

They wriggled under the cool covers together. Castiel laid flat on his back and didn’t say a word when Dean flopped down beside him, his body up against him with an arm draped across his waist and his head against his chest, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He simply brought his free arm over his body to rest his hand high up on Dean’s arm, giving him a soft squeeze and holding on to him as he faded into unconsciousness.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel slowly blinked his eyes open, his gaze rising to see an unfamiliar alarm clock on top of an unfamiliar dresser next to the unfamiliar bed he was lying on. He quickly remembered where he was and looked over to the other half of the bed only to find it empty.

It wasn't even 6 yet and Castiel wondered where Dean had gone to. He got up, deciding not to fret where his host had gone to in his own house, and went to the bathroom. It was clean and minimalistic, the few accessories and toiletries on the double-sink counter organized neatly. A rolled-up towel sat between the sinks, and Castiel wasn’t sure if Dean had left it for him or if it was just there for decor. He assumed Dean wasn’t the type for the latter to be true, so he took the opportunity to take a quick shower before following his trail of discarded clothes all the way to the bottom of the stairs, pulling them on as he went.

He could hear something clattering somewhere, and he wandered towards it, passing through a cozy living room with flowery wallpaper and shelves built into the walls, covered in photo frames. It was still a bit too dark to see clearly, so Castiel carried on, passing through a dining room, the table set for two.

He peered around the archway at the end of the room to see a kitchen, lit up by the deep blue light of the approaching dawn and a stove light. Dean was in a pair of pajama pants with a frying pan in his hand as he stood over the stove, humming a tune that was barely familiar to Castiel. He took another small step into the room and the floor creaked almost inaudibly.

Dean stiffened for an instant before relaxing and saying easily, “Are you gonna come in or you just gonna stand there?”

Castiel came closer, “Sorry. Wasn’t sure where you were.”

“It’s alright.” Dean looked at him over his shoulder, “Pancakes do it for you?” Castiel smiled and Dean returned it before focusing on cooking again, “Most of them are chocolate chip. But I made a couple of plain ones. Wasn’t sure which you preferred.”

Castiel, completely humbled by the gesture, felt his cheeks flush as he spoke softly, “Either… either is fine.”

“Have a seat, then, and get started. This one’ll be done in a sec and I’ll join you.” Castiel stood there, frozen, for a moment before Dean looked over at him again, “Are you, uh… late for work or something?”

“No.” Castiel explained quickly, “I just wasn’t expecting… this.”

Dean paused thoughtfully before he shut off the stove and put the pan aside and muttered under his breath, “Shit…” He turned around, leaning back on one of the counters, barely able to meet Castiel’s gaze, “Look, it’s not… I’m not trying to get all domestic or anything. When I get up early enough I just like to take the time to make breakfast. And since you’re here… figured you could use a bite to eat.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Castiel said quietly.

“Oh.”

They both stood there, thoroughly embarrassed at the situation they’d managed to talk themselves into, until Castiel said, “So… did you want to eat breakfast?”

Dean brought his eyes up from the floor with a sheepish smile, “Yeah.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excerpt:
> 
> The bowl on the coffee table only had a few lonely kernels left in it by the time Han and Luke snuck onto the Death Star, and Castiel had quickly adapted to Dean's near-constant chattering during the movie, even the way he caught him mouthing along line after line. "I always thought he looked really hot in a Stormtrooper uniform."
> 
> Castiel laughed as Han blasted the intercom after botching his attempt to impersonate the enemy, "He really is charming. I can see the appeal."
> 
> "You know, he's the one who made me realize I was into guys."
> 
> Castiel's eyes broke away from the TV to stare at Dean before shrugging, "I can believe that."
> 
> Dean looked at him, surprised, "Hey! Just look at him!"
> 
> "Okay, when did it happen? Was it this scene? Because I really wouldn't blame you if it was."

“Did you call him?”

Castiel nearly jumped, not having heard Balthazar creep into his office, even shutting the door behind him undetected. “Yes,” was all he chose to say, getting rather tired of Balthazar’s insistence, and he couldn’t afford to spare even one minute after work to discuss things he didn’t really want to talk about.

“Well, dish,” Balthazar said, settling into one of the armchairs in front of his desk with the grace of a spoiled housecat.

Castiel made a point of ignoring him, typing up the finishing touches on an e-mail rather loudly and sending it before finally saying, “We’re meeting tonight for dinner.”

Balthazar sat up a little straighter, trying and failing to hide his excitement, “Good on you, Cassie. Did you ask him?”

“Yes,” Castiel said dismissively, starting to clear his desk.

“I’m impressed. Genuinely so.” He crossed his legs, only making himself more comfortable even as Castiel was packing up to leave. “How exciting. I don’t think you understand how thrilled I am for you. God knows you need something going on outside of this boring job and little ol’ me.”

“For once, I agree with you.”

Balthazar smiled, “So, are you nervous? You’ve been out of the game a while. Do try not to screw it up with your awkward tendencies.”

Castiel had been trying not to get anxious about that evening, and Balthazar wasn’t helping. But if he knew where he’d spent the night (or about pretty much any interaction he’d had with Dean since he told Balthazar about him in the first place), he’d never doubt Castiel’s confidence again. Even still, this would be the first time Castiel was meeting Dean in a very public setting, someplace where it’d be hard to find the privacy to distract themselves with their bodies if they ran out of things to talk about. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least, having to have a conversation with a man who could render him speechless with only the thought of him.

“It’ll be fine,” Castiel said to Balthazar, also attempting to reassure himself. “It’s just dinner."

“And after?” Balthazar raised an eyebrow knowingly.

“That’s none of your business,” Castiel said curtly, grabbing his briefcase and sweeping out of the room, Balthazar tailing quickly behind.

“Oh, c’mon, Cassie. You can’t tell me you’re not hoping for a little action this evening.”

“Not another word, Balthazar,” Castiel warned as they approached the crowded elevators and squeezed inside one of them.

And they rode down in silence, overhearing the chatter of their co-workers’ plans for the weekend, and when the doors opened at the basement level parking, Castiel somehow managed to slip out first, leaving Balthazar trapped in the bustle of people rushing out as he made his way to his car. Balthazar called out, “Fine, be that way! But call me after, you bastard!”

Castiel got home, quickly showered and spent more time than usual deciding what to wear. While the warmer weather was making wearing his work outfit unbearable, he decided to wear his suit, sans jacket, simply because he knew Dean liked it. Balthazar’s comments had made him all the more nervous about what could be considered their first actual ‘date’. It would be his first in nearly a year. Castiel had grown to like Dean, or at least, his personality, since there wasn’t much else he knew about the guy to go on. It was about time they sat down to get to know each other. And he wanted to make a good impression. He thought it might be nice to see Dean more often, but that would only work if Dean wanted to see more of him.

After fretting in the mirror for another minute or two, Castiel made his way back to Lawrence, cursing the rush hour traffic. He arrived at the place Dean had suggested ten minutes late, and he glanced around the establishment. The place was a bit rustic, with dim lighting and an odd collection of decor on the walls, ranging from license plates to local sports trophies to framed movie posters. But it was cozy.

Castiel spotted a familiar blonde sitting in a booth, back turned. “Sorry I’m late,” he said as he sat down opposite him. “Couldn’t beat the traffic.”

Dean smiled brightly and teased, “Hey, good lookin’.” He winked at him before waving for a waiter and ordering them some beers.

Castiel blushed and asked, “Did you wait long?”

“Nah, not really. I was a couple of minutes late myself. I locked up the garage a little late today and decided to walk over from home so I wouldn’t have to bring my car. Don’t like to leave her parked where someone might bump her.”

“The garage? Are you a mechanic?”

Dean said, “Oh, yeah, I guess I never told you what I do. But yeah, I’m a regular grease monkey.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what he was expecting. But from the grin that had split on Dean’s face at the mention of his work, he could tell it had to be more than just the daily grind for him, “You enjoy it.”

“Oh, yeah. Nothing like being under the hood and getting some old clunker to purr like she’s brand new. A lot of people don’t even do their own basic maintenance on their cars, which, I guess, is good for me. Lazy people are my bread and butter.” He took a swig from his beer and asked, “How about you? From what I remember, you weren’t so enthused about your work, right?”

Castiel said, “Not exactly.”

“What do you do it for, then? Is the money too good or something? Benefits package, maybe?”

“The company has been in my family for generations. I was practically raised into it. Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m at least distantly-related to a good number of my co-workers.”

“Yeesh,” Dean said, “No wonder you’re banging dudes on airplanes. Can’t risk accidentally screwing your cousin, right?”

Castiel laughed, “Hasn’t happened yet, thank goodness.”

A young blonde woman came up to the table and gave Dean a wry smile, “Hey, dirtbag. What can I get you?”

Dean smiled warmly at her, narrowing his eyes as he bit back playfully, “Hey, twerp. You treat all your customers like that?”

The waitress handed them both a menu and said, “Only the ones who don’t show their face for weeks. Where’ve you been?”

“California, remember? Sam’s graduation?”

“Oh, yeah. Still, you should’ve been by to tell me all about it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Castiel sat uncomfortably in the booth, not sure whether he was supposed to be paying attention to the conversation or if he was supposed to figure out what to eat. His eyes kept flitting between Dean, the waitress, and his menu until finally, the waitress caught his eye and asked, “So, who’s this handsome fella you got here, Dean?”

Dean said, “Oh, this is Cas- Castiel. Cas, this is Jo.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Castiel.

“Pleasure,” Jo said with a sweet smile. “Hope this chump isn’t giving you too much trouble.”

“Um, no, not at all.”

"Well, you let me know if he does. I'll slug him for you if you don't wanna get your hands dirty."

Dean rolled his eyes, “Alright, enough. Let us order our food in peace, would you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me know when you’re ready.”

As she walked away, Castiel said, “She seems… nice.”

“Yeah, a real charmer, that one,” Dean said with a snort. “We’ve been friends a long time. Her mom’s a family friend. I keep an eye on her and she kicks my ass from time to time. It's too bad they only serve beer here, though. Jo can mix a mean drink.” He glanced down at his menu and back up at Castiel, not bothering to open it as he asked, “What are you thinking of getting? Pretty much everything they got here is amazing, so you can’t really go wrong.”

“Is there anything you would recommend?”

“How do you feel about burgers?”

“I love them,” Castiel said without hesitation.

Dean smiled, “Glad to hear it. Why don’t you try the Bacon Egg and Cheeseburger? It’s breakfast on a burger and it’s amazing.”

Castiel flipped through the pages of the menu and spotted the burger, letting out a small groan, “God, it looks so good.”

“Woah, there. Are you gonna ditch me for the burger?”

Castiel glanced up at him from behind the menu, reminding Dean with a small smile of that first glance they shared on the airplane, and he said as seriously as he could, “I just might.”

Dean laughed and called Jo over to take their order. While they waited, Dean asked, “So, where are you from, anyway?”

Castiel stared down at the table where his fingernails nervously picked at the laquer on the worn wood. It couldn’t hurt to tell him, he thought. “Actually, I don’t live too far. Maybe about a half hour if you take the 32.”

“What?” Dean’s smile visibly faltered, but his voice remained light, “Why didn’t you say so, man?”

“I just… I guess I didn’t want to risk getting too invested.”

“Oh… so then why did you tell me?”

“I changed my mind.” A small smile appeared on Dean’s face and Castiel continued, “It’s just that… well, meeting someone is not exactly the wisest idea for me.”

“What?” Dean’s smile turned incredulous, “Dude, isn’t that what everybody is trying to do?”

“I suppose. But with my family and work life so intermingled, and with the… the kind of people I want to meet…”

“Ah, you mean guys.” Castiel shrugged in agreement and Dean sighed, “Well, that sucks.” He took another swig of his beer and asked, “Is that why you wanted to come all the way out here?”

Castiel nodded, lowering his head and feeling his face flush. He knew it made him look like a coward, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with Lawrence. We’ll find something to do around here,” Dean said with another smile that lifted Castiel’s spirits.

Jo arrived with their food a moment later, and Dean waited, watching Castiel bite into his burger before picking up his own, “How is it?”

Castiel chewed and his eyes fluttered shut with a small moan. He swallowed and breathed, “That’s incredible. It might be the best burger I’ve ever had.”

Dean grinned, “Told ya.”

Halfway through his burger, Castiel asked, “What is even in here? How does it taste this good?”

“Secret ingredient is India relish. Mix it right in the beef.”

“How do you know? Did Jo tell you?”

“Nah. I used to work here way back in the day. I usually waited tables, but I screwed around in the kitchen on slow days. Came up with that trick myself.”

“You did?” Castiel looked between Dean and his burger and took another bite, “I’m impressed.”

The rest of their meal was finished in near-silence, the food too good for them to keep their mouths empty long enough to get more than a few words in at a time. The only thing they commented on was their shared love of the extra crispy bits of fries or whether or not they were going to order another burger to split since the first was so good. They decided against it, and Jo mocked them as they leaned back in their seats, full and groggy from the meal.

“That was delicious,” said Castiel. “Is everything here as good?”

“Just about,” Dean said. “Maybe next time I can make some for you. Not that the quality is bad here, but home-made is always better.”

A frisson ran through Castiel at the idea of a ‘next time’. One where Dean wanted to do something as kind as cook for him. He smiled softly, “I’d like that.”

Dean blushed lightly and said, “You must think I’m some kind of Betty Crocker. But I’m usually alone at home and I never really cook much just for myself, only when I have company. So I might be a bit rusty.”

“I’m sure it’s better than anything I can cook. My skills range from sandwiches to microwaving canned soup.” Castiel admitted, “Once, I even managed to get boiled eggs wrong.”

“That’s impossible. How did you do that?”

“To this day, I don’t know what I did wrong. I walked away from the stove and an hour later I was still scraping half-exploded egg off of my stove.”

“Wow. Remind me to have Poison Control on speed-dial if I ever decide to try your cooking.” Castiel frowned, but Dean’s wink let him know he was only teasing. Dean stretched in his seat and asked, “You ready to head on out of here?”

Castiel agreed, and when Dean simply got up and headed for the door, Castiel asked, “What about the bill?”

“Oh, I’ve got an open tab here since I’m always around.”

Castiel stood uncomfortably beside the table, “Are you sure? I feel like I should-”

“Don’t worry about it. You bought the first drink, well, two or three, actually. Let me buy the first meal.” And Dean turned around and was walking out the door before Castiel could protest, briskly following to keep up with him.

“Where are we going?” Dean was heading right out of the parking lot and Castiel’s eyes lingered on his car before he caught up to Dean and started walking beside him.

Dean said, “Well, it's a nice day for a walk. There’s a pretty good bar up the road here. Or my place is the same way. There's beer there too.  And I’ve got a pretty huge movie collection if you just wanna chill out.” He gave him a sidelong glance, “I also have a nice bed. But you knew that already.”

Castiel breathed out a small laugh, "A movie sounds good."

"Movie it is, then."

They walked further out of town, the sun beginning its slow descent to the sound of cicadas in the trees. The neighborhood was still bustling, mostly with preteens racing their bikes up and down the side streets or playing football. Castiel watched a couple of kids sitting on the stoop of one of the houses, marvelling at some insect or frog they had caught in a jar they furnished with twigs and leaves.

He smiled and Dean spotted it. He found himself asking, "So, what did you want to do? I mean , before you got stuck in the family business?"

Castiel distractedly kicked at a stone on the sidewalk, "I don't know, really. Growing up, I knew I'd be streamlined into the company, like nearly all of my siblings and cousins were. I never really dreamed too big since I knew things had already been planned for me." He accidentally kicked his rock a little too hard and it tumbled into a storm drain. He said, "But I think maybe I'd enjoy... something to do with music."

"Music?" Dean perked up, "Really? What do you play?"

"I'm best at piano. But I know my way around a lot of musical instruments."

"Dude, that's awesome."

Castiel smiled. "It's one of the few interests I had that my parents actually encouraged. My father would always bring in audio prototypes from work, so music was playing constantly. He had me test recording equipment sometimes."

"Audio prototypes? What was this family business called?"

"Novak Industries?"

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "No way! I mean, I knew your name was Novak, but until you said... wow. They're the best in the states!

Castiel shrugged, "I guess. Our products are definitely priced as if we were."

"No kidding," said Dean. "I saved up for months just to get the cheapest surround sound system for the garage. And not many people lay down the cash to get their cars fit with Novak speakers."

"Oh, I've got those in mine. The rest of the car is fairly run down, but the sound system is one of a kind," Castiel said.

Dean shook his head with a laugh, "Dude!"

"What? It's one of the perks of working in the industry."

"Yeah, but not every office drone gets a thousand-dollar system installed in their cars as a Christmas bonus."

"That's true. I'm a little higher up than a drone though. Nowhere near the top but not near the bottom either."

"The things you learn about a guy..." As Dean's thought tapered off, Castiel was surprised to find they'd already arrived at Dean's house, his black muscle car sitting pristine in the driveway. Dean cut across the lawn and kicked off his boots, leaving them on the porch and opening the door. He waited as Castiel followed his example and stepped inside.

Dean tilted his head towards the dining room, "The den is right through there. On the back shelf there you'll see the movies. Why don't you see if there's anything that catches your eye."

Castiel found the shelf and browsed through Dean's collection. Dean returned with two bottles of beer and Castiel said, "There are so many. I don't know what to pick."

Dean puttered around the room, shutting drapes, and opening windows to let the cooling evening air in, "What do you like? Comedies? Action flicks? Cult classics?"

“I don’t know, really. I don’t really watch too many movies. There’s a lot I haven’t seen.” Castiel eyeballed the shelf for another moment before asking, “What do you recommend? Which do you like best?”

Dean came up beside him and looked over his movies, “‘Raiders’ is great. So’s ‘Unforgiven’. And Star Wars… classic.”

“I haven’t seen it.”

Dean turned to look at Castiel, blatant concern written all over his face, “Which one?”

“Well, none of them, actually.”

Dean’s jaw fell slack and after a moment he asked carefully, as if making sure he’d heard himself right, “You mean to tell me you haven’t seen Star Wars?” Castiel shrugged helplessly and Dean said gravely, “I can’t believe this. How have you lived without seeing the greatest trilogy ever made?” Before Castiel could even come up with a response for that, Dean reached up for the shelf and grabbed the movie, sweeping around to the TV as he declared, “You’re lucky I’m here to save you from the cultural hole in your brain. We’ll fill it with this historic piece of media right here, right now.”

And sure enough, Castiel found himself rather drawn to the film. Whenever he had a question, no matter how obscure it seemed, Dean had an answer for it (or, at the very least, an incredibly well thought-out theory). Dean also spouted out random bits of trivia here and there.

"He shot first in the original. I still have the original edition on VHS tape somewhere to prove it."

"I believe you."

"It's such bullshit. They didn't want him to look like a bad guy, but fuck, he's supposed to be a morally ambiguous badass."

"You're incredibly passionate about this."

Dean glanced over at him as he whispered seriously, "Oh, you don't mess with Han."

The bowl on the coffee table only had a few lonely kernels left in it by the time Han and Luke snuck onto the Death Star, and Castiel had quickly adapted to Dean's near-constant chattering during the movie, even the way he caught him mouthing along line after line. "I always thought he looked really hot in a Stormtrooper uniform."

Castiel laughed as Han blasted the intercom after botching his attempt to impersonate the enemy, "He really is charming. I can see the appeal."

"You know, he's the one who made me realize I was into guys."

Castiel's eyes broke away from the TV to stare at Dean before shrugging, "I can believe that."

Dean looked at him, surprised, "Hey! Just look at him!"

"Okay, when did it happen? Was it this scene? Because I really wouldn't blame you if it was."

Dean smiled, "I don't wanna spoil the sequels for you."

"Terrible excuse. What happened?"

"Geez, so pushy," Dean laughed. "Anyway, later on, Han and Leia have a kiss scene. And watching it as a kid I liked it. I remember thinking it must have been pretty awesome to get to kiss Leia because, damn, Carrie Fischer is hot.

"Took a long time for me to realize it wasn't just her. I was watching her and Luke's kiss one time... fuck, sorry for spoiling it."

"Trust me," Castiel said, "The romantic subplots are completely overshadowed by the rest of the story. I don't mind. Then what?"

"Okay, so she kisses Luke and I thought to myself that it wasn't the same. When I got to the Han kiss again, it kinda just clicked."

Castiel teased, "What? That you wanted to be his Leia?"

"Shut up," said Dean, shoving a pillow at Castiel. He added, "Like you wouldn't."

Castiel laughed, "I never denied that."

"Well, I found him first. Han's mine."

"He's a fictional char-"

Dean abruptly leaned in close and said, "Mine."

Their new proximity did not go unnoticed by either of them. Castiel glanced at Dean's mouth as he whispered, "Then who do I get?"

"You can have Luke. You're clearly into blondes," said Dean as he leaned in and kissed Castiel's smiling lips.

Castiel kissed back for a moment before pulling away, arguing, "But he seems so plain. No charisma."

"Yeah, I guess. How about Chewy?"

Castiel let out a sharp laugh, "While I do like tall guys, he's just a bit too hairy for my taste. And there may be a language barrier."

Dean smiled, "So picky. Looks like you're stuck with me, then."

"That doesn’t sound too bad," Castiel said before moving to press their lips together again. He could hear blasters and Wilhelm screams from the TV as they twisted their bodies around on the couch to face each other and their tongues ventured out to taste popcorn and beer, the flavors lingering on their mouths.

Dean's arms came up, one hand slowly stroking Castiel's thigh while the other laid on the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss then quickly trailing up to get a grip on his hair, tugging lightly and eliciting a small moan from Castiel. Castiel grabbed at Dean's shoulders, gently pulling his body closer and closer. Their hands started to wander, grazing over each others' arms and chests as they made out slowly, oblivious to the mortal danger the heroes on the screen had found themselves in.

By the time Leia, Han, and Luke were trying to figure out how to get into the main hangar undetected, Dean had found himself straddling Castiel, his hands holding onto either side of his face as he drank him in, his hips grinding down at a lazily slow pace. They took their time, not scrambling to touch all they could or race to the finish line as they had done in the past. They savored the moment, accepting the company and pleasure that the other gave and offering it in return.

Eventually, Dean quit kissing Castiel long enough to nibble at his earlobe and lick and kiss his way down his neck, unbuttoning his shirt as he went lower. Castiel let out a sigh, his hands trailing down Dean’s back and sliding as far as they could down the back of his jeans, pulling his hips in as his own pushed back up. Dean pushed Castiel’s shirt open and planted his hands flat on his chest, wiggling away from Castiel's grasp as he shifted further down on his lap so he could reach more of him with his mouth.

He tongued one of his nipples, savoring the soft sounds coming from Castiel, feeling them rumble in his chest. He gave the same attention to the other one before trailing further down, sliding off of his lap until his knees hit the floor.

Dean worked Castiel's belt and slacks open as his tongue trailed down his belly until he reached the base of his cock. He pulled it out and wrapped his lips around it, slowly jerking the base with his hand and sucking gently on the head. Castiel released a hiss of pleasure, stretching his arms up and bending them to get a grip on the couch behind his head, willing himself to hold on and let Dean work him however he wanted to, seeing as he hadn’t disappointed him yet.

And it seemed that Dean wanted to torture him because he decided to idly suck and lick him, stimulating him just enough to get him to groan but not enough to bring him much further. He carried on that way for a long time, occasionally glancing up at Castiel who cracked his eyes open wide enough to catch the mischievous look he managed to give him despite having a dick in his throat.

“Dean,” Castiel rasped. “Come on.”

Dean pulled up and said with a smile, “But I like you like this.”

Castiel, exasperated, sighed and folded, “Please?”

“‘Please’ what?”

Castiel felt his face heat up but it didn’t stop him from saying, “Please, I want to come.”

Dean’s hand started working him again slowly, “Oh, is that it? How do you want it to happen?”

Castiel’s hips bumped into Dean’s hand as he shifted up towards his grasp. He was growing impatient, so he said, “Ideally, there’d be a sexy bounty hunter with witty one-liners involved.”

Dean chuckled, “Hey, I already called dibs.”

“I remember. So here’s an idea.” Castiel bit back a groan and tried to maintain his composure as he said, “You could keep sucking me off. Maybe let me come down your throat again.”

Dean’s voice grew slightly tighter and his hand moved a little faster, “Oh, you like when I do that?”

“Mmm, yeah.”

“Like this?” Dean lowered his head and wrapped his lips around Castiel’s cock, being a little more merciful as he moved at a faster pace and sucked a bit harder.

“Ahh, yes,” Castiel moaned. “Exactly like that.”

Castiel held onto the couch for dear life as Dean became relentless, his hands abandoning Castiel’s cock to hold his hips down, and taking Castiel’s cock deeper and deeper, until he’d reached the base with eyes squeezed shut with the effort of holding back his gag reflex. Castiel groaned, “Fuck, Dean. Feels so… so good.” Dean continued in his way, giving a contented hum when Castiel brought a hand into his hair, tugging it between his fingers, not pulling him closer, but just ensuring that Dean knew he didn’t want to be left hanging. He was close, and he didn’t want Dean to tease him anymore.

“Gonna come,” Castiel warned. And when Dean brought his head down, fully engulfing Castiel’s cock in his mouth and throat, Castiel held him there as his orgasm bolted through him, his back arching up from the couch. Dean stayed put until Castiel’s moans had settled into soft panting, slurping at Castiel as he pulled away, clearing away all the evidence of his climax.

Castiel watched as Dean wiped the corner of his mouth and looked up at him with a small smile. It surprised him how Dean, still fully clothed and composed, could probably go over to the neighbor’s to ask to borrow their lawnmower and nobody would suspect he’d had a thick cock stuffed in his mouth not moments before.

Dean cleared his throat and said, “So, we kinda missed a big chunk of the movie.”

Castiel chuckled and zipped his pants back up, “I suppose we did. Shall we finish the rest?”

“Sure.” Dean turned around and leaned against the couch, resting his head against Castiel’s knee as the other’s fingers idly scratched at his head. And for the last 20 minutes of the film, neither of them spoke, choosing instead to keep their eyes on the screen as the Rebel forces destroyed the Death Star.

As the ending credits began rolling, Castiel said, “I really enjoyed that. At least, the parts I got to pay attention to.” When Dean didn’t respond, Castiel leaned forward a bit, “Dean?”

Dean started with a small gasp and turned to look at Castiel, “Sorry. Fell asleep. Seen this movie so often it’s like a lullaby.” He got up from the floor and stretched, groaning out, “Welp, might be time to hit the hay. You wanna stick around?” He quirked an eyebrow in invitation.

“Okay.”

Castiel helped to clean up the living room before Dean was leading him up the stairs. When they got to the bedroom, Dean asked, “You wanna borrow some pajamas?”

Castiel said, “Um… You didn’t want to…?” He blushed as he gestured towards the bed with an eyebrow cocked. Dean had taken care of him and he felt sort of rude not to return the favor.

“Do you want to? I mean, I’m down if you do, but I already slept off my, uh, problem.” Dean added cheekily, “And I dunno about you, but I prefer frisky morning sex over tired midnight sex anyway.”

Castiel felt his face flush even more, “I, uh… I suppose you have a point.” He shifted on his feet uncomfortably. Sleeping with Dean without sleeping with him seemed to toe the line from the mostly physical relationship they had into something beyond that. There was nothing wrong with it; he just felt very uncertain. But he didn’t dare to start the ‘what are we’ talk. Not yet. Even if Dean saw them as little more than just a fling, it was enough. It definitely beat the alternative that would have him lying in his bed alone. It hadn’t bothered him so much before, but this time it was the last thing he wanted. So he said, “I guess I’ll take those pajamas, then.”

It turned out Dean’s idea of pajamas were a faded band T-shirt and a pair of extra-long Stanford sweatpants that his brother had left behind during one of his visits. Castiel put them on and got into bed. And the same as the previous night, without warning, Dean bellyflopped beside him and wrapped an arm around his middle, “Night.”

“Good night,” said Castiel, hoping Dean couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before Castiel heard a tired whisper, “Cas? You awake?”

Castiel whispered back, even though there was nobody else in the house to disturb, “Yeah. What is it?”

“You doing anything tomorrow?”

Castiel ran over his mental checklist. He’d planned to prepare some presentations for his next business trip… but he could always pull a few extra hours at the office. “No, not really.”

“Good,” said Dean, seemingly appeased with his answer. He didn’t bother to expand on that, and Castiel didn’t ask him since it seemed Dean fell asleep rather quickly after their exchange. Castiel smiled to himself and let his fingers linger over Dean’s wrist as he followed him to sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel startled awake before turning his face into his pillow with a muffled groan, his arms coming up to curl around his head. “Dean. Really?”

He must have turned over at some point in the night, and Dean had taken advantage of his new position that morning by sidling up behind him and sliding a leg in between his, gently grinding his hips into his backside. Feigning innocence, Dean asked, “What?”

“Can’t let a guy sleep?”

“Hm, I remember a time not so long ago when you didn’t let me sleep. I think I deserve a free pass.” Dean’s arm had been wrapped around Castiel’s waist, keeping him still so Dean could push against him, but it started to slip further down as he said, “Plus, I didn’t get off last night. I’m a little too pent up to wait for you to roll out of bed at noon.” His hand slid over Castiel’s sweatpants, rubbing his cock through the thick fabric.

Castiel let out a low moan into the pillow as the friction from both sides blew away any chance of him getting back to sleep. But this seemed to be a good enough excuse to stay up anyway. He gripped the edge of the mattress so he could push back into Dean who only got more zealous after Castiel started actively participating.

Dean mouthed his way along the exposed part of Castiel’s shoulder, sucking light bruises into his skin and soothing them with his heated breath. Castiel grew hard under his touch, and his hand slipped under the elastic band of the sweatpants to pull out his cock, stroking him firm and slow.

Castiel groaned, “Dean…”

Dean muttered into his ear, “You mind if I fuck you this time?”

Castiel shoved his hips back, feeling Dean’s thick length through their clothes, “Go ahead. But hurry.”

Dean let out a deep laugh, “And you wanted to sleep.” He stroked him a little faster and said, “We can’t get this show on the road until you get the lube, though. It’s on your side.”

Castiel released his iron-grip from the mattress and pulled open the drawer of the nightstand, blindly feeling around as Dean continued to suck marks into his shoulder blades. His fingers grasped at something solid and smooth, and he was about to pull it out to see what it was when his fingers found a soft ridge at the end and he realized he was, unmistakably, touching a dildo.

His mind immediately flashed back to the raunchy phone call he’d shared with Dean earlier that week, and he couldn’t help but observe that Dean must have been using that toy at the time. Dean’s leg shifted further up between his own, pressing into his balls, and Castiel moaned, mind still clouded with conjured images of Dean playing with himself.

“Fuck,” Dean muttered. “C’mon, Cas. Now I’m getting impatient.”

Castiel’s fingers scratched around in the drawer, occasionally bumping into Dean’s dildo as he made a mental note to mention it sometime, before he finally found what he was looking for. He shut the drawer and handed the bottle over to Dean, who stopped jerking him and immediately covered his fingers in lube. He snaked his hand between them and into Castiel’s pants, rubbing at his hole and earning a few frustrated huffs from Castiel before pushing one of his fingers in.

Castiel just pressed back onto Dean and said, “Another. C’mon.”

“Shit,” was all Dean could say as he pressed a second finger in with some difficulty, panting with his lips pressed against his skin. Castiel groaned, and while the sound was tinged with a bit of pain, the pleasure in his voice overwhelmed it. Dean dragged his fingers slowly in and out, bending and scissoring them until Castiel was pushing back, fucking himself on his fingers and demanding more.

So it wasn’t long before Dean pulled out his fingers and dragged Castiel’s sweatpants down just enough to make way for his cock. Castiel’s breath hitched and held as his brows furrowed while he focused on the stretch and the push and the pain and the pleasure. Slowly, so slowly, Dean filled him up, and Castiel finally let out a rushed breath as his body accommodated Dean’s girth for the second time.

Dean’s hand had curled around Castiel’s hip, holding him close, still planting soft, needy kisses along his neck and behind his ear, sending shivers through his entire body until finally he couldn’t take it anymore and he shifted his hips. Both groaned at the friction and Dean started to push in and out of him, his pace picking up a little bit with every impatient grunt that came from Castiel’s mouth.

They carried on in that way for a few minutes before Castiel had had enough. The position they were in just wasn’t doing it for him, not when he was fully charged after a good night’s sleep. He complained, “What were you saying last night? Something about ‘frisky morning sex?’” He spit out the term, annoyance plain in his voice.

Dean chuckled, “I dunno. I guess I’m still kind of drowsy. Thought I could get away with being lazy. It’s not looking good for me, is it?”

“Well, for future reference, don’t wake me up for a lay if you’re going to be lazy about it. ” Castiel pulled away and got off the bed.

Dean asked, worried Castiel had somehow been so offended at being awoken that he had decided to leave, “What are you doing?”

“I’m not being lazy about it,” Castiel said plainly, stripping off his borrowed pajamas before pushing a completely compliant, smirking Dean onto his back and allowing him to wiggle out of his clothes before straddling him. With palms pressed flat against Dean’s chest, Castiel pushed himself up and over Dean's cock again. He started a smooth, quick rhythm, hips canting back and forth as sweat began to slide down his face from the hazy summer heat that had surrounded them.

Dean stared up at him, panting in short breaths as Castiel’s weight kept forcing the air out of his lungs. He groaned as he felt Castiel wrapped around him, completely in control of how deep he could sink, how fast they got to go. And while Castiel was definitely putting more effort into the sex than Dean had, it wasn’t quite enough. Dean breathed out, “Harder.”

“What was that?” Castiel asked, eyes closed but with a hint of playfulness in his voice to let Dean know he’d heard him.

Dean sighed, “Please?”

Castiel’s eyes opened to look down at Dean with a smile, repeating the same thing the blonde had said the night before, “Please what?”

Dean cheekily replied, “Please me, please.”

Castiel huffed out a laugh. He was about to comply when an impish idea took hold of him. He moved at a cruelly slow pace, clenching as he pulled up and drawing out a long, low moan from Dean whose hands reached up to either side of his head, his knuckles going white at the tight grip he had on his pillow.

“F-fuck…” Dean stuttered. “Please, Cas.”

Castiel mouth curved slightly as he said, “First…” He sucked at Dean’s skin for a moment before continuing, “you have to do something for me.”

“What?” Dean asked desperately, biting back a groan as Castiel began a torturously slow descent onto his cock. “What do you want? Anything, I’ll- ahhh… please!”

Castiel’s cock twitched as Dean began to beg and he knew he couldn’t keep up this game for too long. He leaned over him, the shift in position causing them both to moan before Castiel mouthed his way up Dean’s neck, still pushing back onto him in short, leisurely strokes. When he reached his ear, he whispered, “You have to apologize.”

“What?” Dean asked, completely disbelieving. He gasped as Castiel took him in completely for a brief moment. When his mind finally put itself back together, he said, “Apologize? For what? Waking you up?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, taking his earlobe gently between his teeth as he pulled away until Dean was completely released, with only the tip of his cock pressing against his hole. Even as Dean tried to buck his hips up to try and get back in, Castiel only rose just out of reach again, sinking back down to let Dean only have the slightest contact.

Dean definitely wasn’t laughing anymore, so starved for more as he blurted out, “Alright, I’m sorry! Fuck, it’ll never happen again. Just please…” His voice shrunk to a helpless whisper, “Please, Cas. Need you.”

Castiel turned his head to face him, eyes wide and flickering back and forth between Dean’s who only stared up at him with an expression that could only translate into surrender.

Castiel brought his lips down to kiss Dean, who craned his neck up to hungrily kiss back, tongue delving into the mouth above him, taking as much as Castiel would give him. His lips tried to follow Castiel as the other pulled away, and Dean dropped his head back down into his pillow in disappointment.

Castiel trailed a hand up one of Dean’s arms, stopping to rub his thumb against his wrist softly, feeling the rapid pulse fluttering underneath the skin. His hand slowly twisted around, until his fingers finally wrapped around Dean’s wrist. He made sure to watch Dean’s face as he gripped his wrist tight, pushing it into the pillow and sinking down hard and fast onto his cock.

Dean cried out and threw his head back as Castiel hammered down, forcing Dean to slightly bounce up off of the bed with every thrust. His free hand kept clutching at his pillow, but the other grasped at the air and twisted around, searching for something to hold onto but kept in place by Castiel's grip. Castiel’s other hand stayed planted firmly on Dean’s chest, keeping him pinned as he fucked himself on his cock. He cried out as he found his own prostate, gyrating in just the right way to graze it against Dean’s cock again and again, his eyes fluttering shut as he became intoxicated on the sensation.

Dean grit his teeth as he tried to contain himself, finding it increasingly difficult to keep from screaming as Castiel engulfed him over and over again.

As if he’d read his mind, Castiel huffed out, “C’mon, Dean. You’re not this quiet.”

Castiel slammed down hard and a strangled grunt escaped Dean before a loud moan followed quickly in its wake. Shorter exclamations burst out of him with every thrust, ranging from obscenities, to Castiel’s name, to unintelligible sounds.

Castiel’s voice was tight as he muttered, “I like when you’re noisy.”

Dean responded with a cry of, “Cas! Ahh, I’m- I’m… So close.”

Dean’s free hand came down between them, taking hold of Castiel’s bobbing cock and tugging it in long, quick strokes. Castiel groaned as Dean let out a shout, and Castiel did his best to repeat whatever he did to get Dean to replicate the loud sounds that shot straight to his cock.

Dean’s strokes grew faster and more erratic as Castiel continued to bring him closer and closer to the edge, until finally, he came with a scream.

Dean quickly fell limp beneath him, still jerking him off as best as he could and watching him with half-lidded eyes. The blonde glanced down at Castiel’s cock before stretching his head up and exposing his neck. “Come on,” Dean whispered, voice utterly wrecked as his thumb rubbed over the head of his cock.

Castiel took the invitation, eyes roving over Dean’s broad, heaving chest before he came, his cum spurting out and landing in streaks from his belly all the way to his collarbone. “Dean,” Castiel groaned as his orgasm made his whole body tremble.

He slumped over Dean, just barely able to prop himself up on his elbows, breathing heavily into his neck for a few moments before rolling over and laying beside him. After a few moments of blissed out silence, Dean mumbled, “Well, that was pretty intense. Where the fuck did that come from, businessman?”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth quirked up, “I’m not sure.”

“Huh,” Dean said, grabbing at his t-shirt that somehow hadn’t fallen off of the bed and wiping himself off before tossing it on the floor with the rest of their clothes. “And I thought maybe we could go out and do something today, but now I definitely want to be lazy.”

“No,” Castiel groaned non-committally. “We shouldn’t lie in bed all day. I’m a businessman. That would be an unproductive use of our time, and I can’t have that.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughed, turning to face Castiel, propping himself up with his chin in his hand. “Maybe just another half hour then?”

“Mmm, that might be alright. I think I need it.”

Dean smiled and leaned down to kiss him. Castiel returned it, reaching up to drag his fingers through Dean’s hair, lips moving soft and slow as they tasted each other.

They didn’t carry on for very long before Dean sunk back down onto the bed. They laid side by side, the heat in the room keeping them from touching except for the brush of their fingers and they dozed off again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A lawnmower had woken them up not fifteen minutes later, and after Dean grumbled about the early-rising retirees living next door, he and Castiel rolled out of bed, showered, and had another breakfast together. It was quiet. The only thing interesting going on in Castiel’s life was Dean, so there wasn’t much to say to the man himself. So Dean wound up filling the silence, talking about how his brother had already started a summer law program so he could graduate a year earlier than expected, how things were going good at the garage so he was thinking of investing in some better rims for his car, how he was sorry they were having pancakes for two days in a row because he could never figure out how to use the waffle maker for the life of him and he didn’t have enough eggs for omelettes. The easy way Dean just chattered on about his daily life like they’d been friends for years made Castiel feel warm and welcome in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“I don’t really have anything planned for today,” Dean said as he started clearing the table, busying his hands and carrying things back to the kitchen. “You can stick around. If you want to.” Before Castiel could get a word in, Dean added quickly, “If not, I could at least walk you back to your car. You wanna pick it up, right?”

“Um, sure,” Castiel said, trying to grab something off the table before Dean could clean up the whole mess himself.

They finished up and made their way out of the house, choosing to walk again instead of taking Dean’s car and following the same route they took the evening before. Even more kids were out on the streets that Saturday morning, running through sprinklers in their yards or pitching baseballs at each other, enjoying one of their last weekends before their long summer break. Castiel had lived in the city as soon as he’d hit adulthood, and he’d forgotten what it was like living in the suburbs. Seeing the lively children running around laughing and playing was bringing Castiel down, reminding him that he’d spent the past decade wasting away in his corporate office and accomplishing nothing that his young self had once dared to dreamed of. Still, he tried to convince himself, it was worth it.

Dean nudged Castiel with an elbow, “What’s up? You look like someone spit in your ice cream.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, wrinkling his nose at the idea. “My thoughts distracted me for a moment. I-... I used to live in a neighborhood like this when I was young.”

“Really?” Dean gave him a half-smile, a glint of something like sadness in his eyes, “Must’ve been really fun.”

“I thought… You didn’t grow up here, then?”

“No. I kind of had a crazy childhood. Long story short, I spent most of it on the road. Didn’t come back here until I was almost done with school. Summer vacations were never a big deal since things were pretty much the same year-round for me.” He kicked at a stone on the sidewalk, watching it tumble and roll onto a lawn before saying, lighter, “Anyway, how was it? Living someplace like this seems like a dream for a kid.”

A small smile spread on Castiel’s face as he started remembering his past, the excited shouts from kids helping him recall things more sharply, “In hindsight, yes, it was good. I don’t think I appreciated it as much as I should have back then. I didn’t have a lot of friends, but my siblings often did their best to make up for that. Things were great for a long time. But then-”

Castiel cut himself off, hoping Dean wouldn’t question his abrupt silence. But Dean just nodded thoughtfully before asking, “How many of you are there?”

“Six.”

“Six!” Dean froze mid-step, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No. There were seven of us. Two were adopted before I was born.”

“Jesus,” Dean said in awe. “All I’ve got is Sam. Weird to imagine even one other brother or sister, let alone six… Christ!”

Castiel laughed, accustomed to the shocked reaction that typically came when people heard about the size of his family. The heaviness he’d been feeling seemed to dissipate.

Dean asked, “So, what, are you a middle child or something?”

“No, I’m the youngest.”

“You’re the baby?”

Castiel frowned, “You don’t have to put it that way.”

Dean shook his head, smiling at Castiel, “I’m putting it that way because it’s surprising. You definitely don’t have annoying baby brother qualities like mine does.”

They arrived at the restaurant parking lot, Castiel’s car waiting right where he left it. The silence between them grew awkward as they both seemed to be dragging their feet as they approached the car. It was finally Castiel who spoke first, “This was… nice.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, tucking his hands into his pockets. “It was a fun date.”

Castiel asked nervously, “That was a… date?”

“I mean…” Dean averted his eyes, staring at the plain, dirty rims on Castiel’s tires, “if you wanted it to be, then, yeah.”

“Yeah, no, I… It was a fun date.” Another uncomfortable moment passed before Castiel said timidly, “I can give you a ride back to your place, if you want. You can check out the sound system if you want.”

Dean perked up, his nerves clearing away quickly at the idea, “Oh yeah! I forgot about that. Thanks, man.”

They slid into their seats and Castiel started up the engine, “I’ve got satellite radio, so you should be able to find something you like.”

Dean fiddled with the controls, jumping from station to station as Castiel rolled down the windows and pulled out of the lot. As he made his way down the road they walked, Dean seemed to find a song he liked, because he cranked up the volume, a high-pitched guitar solo blaring through the quality speakers. “Oh yeah.” Dean grinned, nearly shouting to be heard over the music, “It sounds amazing!”

Castiel smiled back. The song was a bit familiar, but he hadn’t ever been particularly interested in classic rock beyond practicing some of its techniques on his own guitar back in the day. Dean’s enthusiasm, however, was enough for him to reconsider, and he gave it another shot, really listening this time to identify each instrument, chord progressions and bass lines.

By the time the next song started playing, Castiel had pulled into Dean’s driveway. Dean groaned, “I love this song. I just wanna sit here a little longer. You mind?”

“Not at all.”

Less than a minute in, the song suddenly shifted from quiet and mellow to loud. Dean frowned, “The oldies next door are gonna complain.”

He started to roll up his window when Castiel said, “It’s gonna get hot, though.” Even with the windows open, the car was already starting to feel like an oven.

“We can’t just crank up the A/C?”

“No. It broke on me the other day. You can hardly feel it.”

Dean lowered the volume so they could quit shouting at each other, “Why didn’t you say so? I can check it out for you.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s fine.”

“Dude,” Dean gestured to himself, “Mechanic. A busted A/C is child’s play for me. Besides, how are you going to survive even the next week without it?”

Castiel hesitated and Dean pressed on, “C’mon, man. The garage is only two minutes away. You just gotta take us there.”

Castiel sighed and pulled back out of the driveway, following Dean’s directions to the garage. Castiel waited in the car as Dean pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened up one of the big garage doors. He pulled in and got out of the car, handing the keys to Dean, “It’s all yours.”

Dean popped open the hood of the car and got to work, digging into the car’s mechanical interior with his bare hands. Castiel glimpsed around the empty workshop. They were the only ones there, and the place had clearly been closed for the weekend. He asked, “It’s not going to be a problem? You opening up the place?”

Dean glanced up with a grin, “Nah. I kinda get to do whatever I want since I run the joint.”

“You own the business?”

“Yep. Never really liked having a boss, and I needed an income. And this is what I’m good at, so it seemed like the best idea at the time. I’m lucky everything’s worked out so far.”

Castiel nodded and felt a little more comfortable taking a few more steps into the shop, letting Dean concentrate as he walked off the nearly pleasant nervousness that arose in him at the sight of him fixing his car for him. There was a walled-off section with a door left ajar, and he peeked inside. The room was dimly lit by a few small windows. In the middle of the floor sat the frame of a car that even Castiel could tell had to be older than he was, various parts missing and rusted, while others looked to have been buffed out and cleaned. The interior had been ripped out and laid against the far wall. From what he could see, the room looked neat and orderly, everything in it’s place. It might as well have been in an auto catalog.

Castiel decided to stop sticking his nose in places he shouldn’t, and he opted instead to browse the main area. The garage had four huge doors, and the longest wall in the back was lined with industrial shelving, covered in tires from floor to ceiling. There were a number of machines he was wary of going near for fear of accidentally turning one on, especially one of the car lifts that had a rather large SUV propped up high.

Before long, Castiel wandered back to see Dean, covered in a light sheen of sweat from the engine’s heat with forearms marked up with grease, twisting his hand in the car’s innards. Castiel couldn’t help but enjoy the view. He decided right then that he had a thing for mechanics.

Dean looked up, “Just shutting up the valve and it should be done.”

“Already?” Castiel circled around the car to have a look for himself, even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to tell what had been done.

“Told you it was a quick fix,” Dean said, wiping his brow and shutting the hood. “Low pressure. You were just low on some fluids, so I topped them up. Why don’t you check it out, maybe pull the car out while I get cleaned up and lock the place?”

Castiel sunk into the driver’s seat and turned on the air conditioner. By the time Dean returned, he was shivering. “I think it’s better than it ever was. You’re good. Thank you.”

Dean smiled as he leaned in his window and kissed him. When he pulled away, he said with a wink, “For you, it’s no problem.”

Castiel could feel his heartbeat speeding up, and when Dean got in the car he said, “Let me take you home.”

He pulled back onto the road, and they drove, enjoying the cool air and loud music.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the car, they were listening to "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC and "Renegade" by Styx.
> 
> Also, I'm still looking for a beta-reader for this work. If you're interested, you can contact me at WomanInWhite@live.com (since, unfortunately, AO3 doesn't have any kind of messaging system...).


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